Copy
by hawkstout
Summary: She said he would be thirteen years younger. Damian was planning to go after him in three. He showed up in one. Damian's brother wants only one thing, to destroy Damian and take everything he has. One of those things just happens to be Dick Grayson.
1. Chapter 1-3

**Cross posted to A03 under the same pseud  
**

**Notes:**

Translation Available in Chinese: See Archive of Our Own under author Hawk Stout and Story Copy.

I believe you need to sign in to view them in Chinese.

This is the first three chapters of a work already published on A03 which is why it's three chapters in one chapter.

**Pairings:**

One-sided Damian!clone/Dick Grayson

Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne

One-sided Damian Wayne/Dick Grayson

Dick Grayson/Jason Todd

**Warnings: **Underaged boys having (one sided!) feelings for an adult.

Okay so rather than being ten Damian's fourteen and his clone/twin/brother looks about ten although he probably has the maturity of a sixteen year old.

This story has sexual feelings from underage characters (eventually) which are basically chocked up to an awful childhood and genetic manipulations being sort of screwed up.

Diverges from whatever DC's canon happens to be at the moment.

* * *

**Chapter One: One Year Later **

* * *

"_He'll be thirteen years younger than you when he's born." _

Damian had thought he would have had more time to deal with it, but he had underestimated his Mother's ingeniousness and cruelty.

She said thirteen years younger.

He was planning to go after him in three.

He showed up in one.

Damian Wayne had a little brother, a clone, a twin, a monster.

A thing that had been raised and implanted with one imperative overall: that he would have everything Damian had, would take it all away.

His mother must not have thought it out fully though because of everything, above his mantel as Robin, above his blood as a Wayne, even above his father the thing Damian Wayne cherished most was Richard Grayson's love and Grayson's love was not a finite thing.

* * *

It was a turbulent time in his life. His partnership with Grayson was coming to an end and although in the beginning he had resented him, Damian had come to respect his father's eldest ward. They worked well together and when idea that his father might have survived first became plausible and not the delusional ravings of Drake's over active imagination Damian had felt uneasy. If his father returned wouldn't his father be Batman again? Wouldn't Drake be Robin again? Or would he be his father's Robin? And Grayson… would Grayson be Nightwing? Luckily his father saw that Damian and Grayson balanced and complemented each other and they were able to continue… for a time.

Damian was surprised that he hasn't seen it coming. As hard as Grayson worked to uphold his role as the 'Jolly Batman' he was restless. He constantly complained about the weight of the costume. Damian had thought he had meant it physically, that the heavy cape and Kevlar were hampering the acrobat's ability to move. He hadn't realize—no he had forgotten Grayson's reluctance to take up the cowl. It took a year for the cowl to get too heavy.

"_Grayson, what are you wearing?" Grayson stood in his black and blue Nightwing uniform minus the domino mask. He held the cowl of Batman, weary look on his face._

"_Grayson?" _

"_Just one night, okay little D?" _

His father quickly caught on. A serious conversation took place that Damian had no part in and that had felt like a betrayal. It was decided Grayson would go back to being Nightwing and his father would once again take up the cowl in Gotham. It had been his goal to work at his father's side. That was what he had strived for when he had first entered the Wayne household, but that had changed. Although he strived to impress and be worthy of his father's name working with him was a different matter. His father commanded and was inflexible. He looked everything Damian did over with a critical eye waiting for the mistake which would justify an end to their partnership.

There were times he had to admit to himself that he secretly wished his father had not come back. That he and Grayson could continue on as they had before. That Grayson would bear the responsibility of the Batman because there was no one else that could.

His father kept him and Grayson on missions together, but now it was as Nightwing and Robin. Only very occasionally did his father partner with him, and when they where together there was always tension if Grayson was not present.

Damian was aware that this was a transition, that his Father was weaning him off his … dependence on Grayson, and at the same time trying to allow father and son to develop a rhythm. Neither side of this plan was going well.

The last time he had worked with his father it had dissolved into angry words and shouting. His father had wanted to dictate, Damian had wanted to run free. It ended with him turning off his communicator and his father freaking out, banning him from patrol until he could prove he was trustworthy.

Damian had stayed at the manor for a grand total of ten minutes before heading towards Wayne Tower and the Bat Bunker where Nightwing continued to reside.

"I've already proven myself," The boy hissed. He was balanced on a gargoyle, wind whipping against him, his hood and cape flapping in the wind.

"_Your eyes on the prize little D?" _

"What have I told you about using that asinine nickname Ba-Nightwing, especially on the job?"

"_Hey, you're lucky you're on the job. Batman'll kill me if he finds out I let you out on patrol when you're 'grounded.' Oh, and you told me you'd tear out my throat or something violent and unnecessary like that for continuing to call you by your nickname, but I'm not nearby,"_ Grayson sung over his com, _"Can't rip out my throat from here!" _

"-Tt-"

Damian wasn't frowning anymore though.

"_I can hear your brood from five buildings away, seriously. You're going to have an ulcer at fifteen." _

Damian was about to summarily dismiss Grayson's quips but didn't have the chance. It was only his trained reflexes beaten into him as a child that saved him from a strike to the head and a long fall to the street below. He leapt up grabbing the ledge of the building pulling himself up to the roof and taking out his bird-a-rang waiting for his assailant to make their move.

"_Robin?"_

"-Tt-"

Damian froze hearing the familiar sound coming out of someone else's mouth.

"_Robin are you still there?"_

"Brother," It was like hearing a recording of his own voice, similar but wrong, "We properly meet at last."

He finally appeared in front of him. Damian knew who it was. It was like looking into a mirror and he knew it wasn't clayface or some other shifter playing games. From the way he held himself to how he styled his hair there was no mistake.

"_I'll be right there; whatever's happening hold on." _

His posture, his fighting stance, the arrogant twitch of his lips. The only difference between them was that the boy in front of him looked younger. Damian was fourteen, this one looked ten. He was also in civilian's clothing, a black hoodie and dark jeans.

"I didn't expect to see you again so soon," Damian finally said studying his opponent.

"It won't be a long reunion," His—whatever he was assured him. The boy wasn't his brother. In the last year Damian had learned what brotherhood was and it didn't come from a test tube… although he'd never tell Grayson that.

The boy in front of him pulled his sword a smirk on his face.

* * *

His life started in dreams, memories filled with darkness and determination and pain. He learned his deadly skills in these memories and when he awoke he put these skills into practice.

From the very beginning he knew that these dreams and memories were not his own. A copy of the brother that came before. His mother, who loved and doted even as she sent killers for him to prove himself, did not deny this.

"_If you don't want to be a copy then prove you are the stronger,"_ She told him. He learned of his elder twin and of his father Bruce Wayne, the Batman. He was being groomed by his mother to be a powerful man. A man fit to rule, but to be worthy he had to remove his enemies first the foremost being his elder brother. The elder brother whose memories he held. The elder brother he was constantly compared to.

On the tenth day of awakening he learned resentment for a brother he never met.

When he wasn't training he was studying, researching, learning about his enemy. 'Damian' resembled him in looks, but he could see the… carefreeness in his elder brother's attitude. He watched video of his brother over and over looking at all weaknesses, learning all his moves. First he only watched his brother as Robin, but soon found himself looking at news profiles usually concerning Wayne Enterprises and a struggle between his brother and the board.

He had grown quite used to his brother's scowling face, but one day there was something new.

"_Mother, who is this beside my brother?" _He pointed at the handsome young man who gave an easy candid smile completely unaware of the camera, or perhaps so used to it that he was no longer fazed. The young man held his brother's shoulder saying something that wasn't picked up by the audio. He watched as his brother's scowl softened before he pushed the man's hand away.

His mother examined the news clip with disdain. The young man was apparently his father's first apprentice, his first adopted son, and the heir of his father's legacy as the Dark Knight.

"_He is who poisoned your brother,"_ She told him stiffly, _"A circus boy, a stray your father took a fancy to and has always indulged."_

After his mother had left he continued to study the picture. He traced a finger over the circus boy's upturned lips.

It was the first real smile he had ever seen with his own eyes. Before it had been the false smiles of his servants and the cruel smile of his mother. The news programs showed his brother's scowls and serious newscasters explained the disaster that Batman and Robin were trying to solve.

The young man had something real that he couldn't comprehend. He impulsively printed the picture telling himself it was to remember Richard Grayson's face.

He didn't think too deeply over why he wanted to remember it.

On the third month of awakening he learned what joy looked like, but didn't understand what it was.

* * *

The two grappled one another. He had not expected his elder brother to be easy to kill, that would be an insult to his mother's training. His brother didn't hold back. He pushed forward trying to get him closer and closer to the edge. His brother claimed to follow his father's code, but he was still a killer and in a desperate situation he knew the murderous look on his elder brother's face was mirrored in his own eye.

"Robin!"

He couldn't help but glance. It was Nightwing, _Richard_, crouching on the ledge of the building his lean muscles tensed and ready to spring into action.

"Two?" Richard asked in utter confusion.

"Grayson!" His brother hissed.

"Right!" Richard gracefully flipped over the two fighting boys and grabbing him by the hood. He attempted to swing his sword into Richard's exposed ribs, but his elder brother ripped it out of his hand.

"Woah, woah, Damian, Damian calm down," Richard tried taking on a calm steady tone as he attempted to pin the boy.

"That's not my name!" He shouted

"Shh, shh, it's okay," Richard repeated over and over, "Robin, knock out gas," Richard commanded with some authority. His brother nodded pulling a pellet out of his belt and cracking it under his nose.

He felt his vision blurring. As the concerned face melted into darkness gentle words carried him away.

* * *

**Chapter Two****: Matter of Family **

* * *

He awoke in a warm bed with that worried face coming back into focus as if it had never left.

"He's awake," Richard murmured quietly.

He tried to spring up and attack, but restraints held him to the bed. "Hey… hey it's okay," Richard said, "Calm down. We're not going to hurt you."

He was struggling with effort. The restraints held tight.

"Don't waste kind words on that creature," his older brother hissed. He looked to his left seeing Damian standing in the corner studying him with a critical eye.

He stopped struggling, taking small spiteful pleasure in contradicting his brother. He allowed his eyes to travel around the room processing everything. He wasn't surprised at all by the three white walls and the glass window. This was a cell. A nice looking cell, but a cell none-the-less. He brought his eyes back to Richard who was smiling encouragingly.

"Hey," Richard said again, "I'm Dick, what's your name?"

"Damon Wayne," he answered quietly. Damon had planned to show complete resistance in his capture, but Richard's kind eyes had him forming a new plan. The man was looking at him in honest concern and that could be manipulated.

"Damon? The little monster's name is Damon!?" Damian roared in outrage suddenly beside him.  
Damon could taste his brother's outrage on his tongue it was so strong. He idly wondered if his brother would try to choke him, but Richard's presence seemed to calm him down.

"Damian," A silent communication seemed to pass between his brother and Richard.

"-Tt-" Damian turned leaving the room.

"Where is he going?" Damon asked keeping his voice soft and vulnerable.

"He's going to talk to your father," Richard answered, "You're Damon?"

"Yes, I'm his little brother," Damon answered, he looked up at Richard, "I came here to find him… and meet my father. I… when we met… I didn't react well to seeing him it's just… he looks so much like me and he was so angry at seeing me and…" Damon made himself look ashamed looking through his dark eyelashes. His eyes then snapped back to Richard as if realising something, "And you, you're my big brother as well aren't you? My father's first child?"

He kept his eyes wide and innocent. Richard smiled ruefully.

"I'm nice kid, but I don't get played that easily."

"What?"

"Considering you're raised by your mother? That you're here? That you pulled a sword? You're here to kill Damian."

"What? No! I was just surprised and he attacked so I didn't know what to do!" Damon attempted to keep the act up for a little longer, but Richard wasn't playing, although he still spoke in soothing tones.

"Come on, it's okay, you can drop the act. You can't be comfortable with being nice anyway so go ahead and be you." Coming from anyone else the words might be taken as an insult, but Damon knew it wasn't.

Damon allowed his confused slightly hurt look to slip off his face. He silently studied Richard for a long moment and nodded, "My research led me to believe that your bleeding heart would be easily exposed. That you'd perhaps untie me if you thought I was a victim of circumstance. I underestimated your caution."

Despite his words Richard laughed which stirred something inside Damon which wasn't quite anger or embarrassment, but didn't feel right all the same.

Richard ruffled his hair quickly as if his hand would burn from long exposure. It was a strange gesture but not intolerable. "Ah, there's the Wayne charm I know and love," Richard chuckled.

Damon raised an eyebrow.

Richard was a man who couldn't seem to still himself. There was something in his very being that needed to move. Perhaps it stemmed from his childhood as a performer and then as a crime fighter.

The older man continued to fidget under Damon's gaze.

"So what do you intend to do?" Damon asked at last when he allowed the silence to stretch between them a little too long. "Killing me would go against our father's code and any prison you put me in will not hold me."

Richard frowned, "We'd rather not do any of that. You're just a k-" he stopped himself seeing the expression on Damon's face.

"What?" Damon had been about to snap at the presumption that age made him any less dangerous.  
"Oh, you know, you remind me of someone—guess who?" Richard leaned back in his chair. His fidgets had subsided, "If absolutely nothing else, you're family. How's that for a reason?"

"But I'm also dangerous," Damon surmised, "You know that as soon as I am free I will fix the mistake."

"Fix the mistake?" There was a warning under Richard's curiousness. A hardness in his eyes. Protectiveness. It boiled Damon's blood that his brother had somehow gained such a loyal companion. His brother deserved nothing.

"My brother, the mistake," Damon answered as if it were obvious.

"Well, family's never easy," Richard murmured. The protectiveness was still there, and a sadness was detectable.

"Do you intend to brainwash me like you did my brother?" He'd rather have the man's anger and attention focused solely on him.

"Is that what Talia's calling it?" Richard muttered not looking amused. He ignored the disrespectful tone the circus boy took with his mother's name.

"You have little recourse. The only options you have are to lock me up, send me home or brainwash me to your way of thinking. I'm sure my father has it down to a science now considering all the practice he's had," Damon looked at Richard pointedly.

"Are you implying I've been brainwashed?"

"A bright little circus boy taken in by the Batman? It sounds like a nightmarish fairy-tale. You're saying you weren't pulled in by his dominant personality? That he didn't shape you into exactly what you are today?"

"He really didn't. I learned interpersonal skills all by myself. See how I use my interpersonal skills?"

Damon scoffed, "You can allow yourself to be deluded into believing my father raised you as a son and not as a soldier, but we both know that's not true."

"And what were you raised as Damon?"

Damon smirked taking great pleasure in the answer.

"A Ruler."

"Yeah, you're totally more well-adjusted than I am. Why can't there ever be a happy option in these sort of situations?" Richard grumbled.

"-Tt- This is what happens when two ideologies clash," Damon said.

"It's not ideologies. It's a matter of family."

There was such an innocence to the acrobat's words. Damon felt his heartbeat speed up.  
Before Damon could respond the man he had been anticipating for appeared behind the glass.

Batman.

* * *

Damian seethed. He didn't know what he had intended to do to the little monster, but the only thing that stopped him from implementing it was Grayson's presence. He wanted to stay to make sure it didn't move from its bonds, but Grayson was firm.

"You're going to aggravate him."

"He aggravates me!"

"Yet another reason for you to not be here when I scope him out. He's going to try to get inside my head. I want to see what he's capable of."

"How do you know?"

"It's what you'd do… that or threaten to cripple me."

So Damian left going to where his father watched the monitor. The very fact that the monster was in the cave, their home greatly disturbed him, as if Hush hadn't been bad enough.

"Father."

"Damian," His Father nodded. He was watching Grayson's interaction with the monster.

"_Come on, it's okay, you can drop the act. You can't be comfortable with being nice anyway so go ahead and be you."_

"He shouldn't have given the game away so quickly," Damian said in annoyance, "He could have gotten more out of it if he had pretended to be taken in."

Bruce shook his head, "They're sizing each other up. You're right in most cases it would be better to play along, but there's a reason he's in there and not us."

"What's that father?"

"He has more of a chance of winning over his trust," Bruce answered still studying the screen.

"-Tt- the little monster reveals himself," Damian hissed as the monster's face went from wide-eyed innocence to blank semi-boredom.

Damian felt a shock of anger as he watched Grayson ruffled the monster's hair. It was something he did to Damian, usually so quickly that he had no time to react and attack the hand before it was gone.

"_Ah, there's the Wayne charm I know and love."_

Both Damian and his father snorted. They glanced at each other before quickly looking back at the monitor. The monster continued in even tones as if reciting information from a text book and Richard spoke as if he was talking to a human being.

"Why is he so twitchy?" Damian asked getting annoyed at Grayson's bouncy movements. Grayson didn't fidget, every movement of his body was deliberate and graceful.

"He wants Damon to believe he's taking dominance in their conversation," his father answered. A rare teaching moment, "Dick wants to see if Damon exploits any signs of weakness."

Damian nodded.

"_A Ruler."_

Bruce stood, "I've seen enough."

* * *

The door opened revealing the mistake and his father. Bruce Wayne was every bit as imposing as he was lead to believe, but Damon wasn't moved. Although his mother and his traitor brother had been taken in by him, Damon wasn't impressed. A man with such power who did nothing but fight costumed thugs on the street was a fool. Doubly so for not ending those enemies swiftly.

Damon's eyes shifted back to Richard for a moment, "None of you are my family," he said bluntly.

"And here I was big brother ten minutes ago," the young man murmured running a hand through his hair tiredly. He stood allowing his father to take his seat and went to stand beside the failure putting a hand on his shoulder. His brother hesitated before throwing it off angrily. Richard didn't look surprised or put out by it.

"Damon."

"Father."

"What do you want from us?"

It was an odd question, but he had already stated as much to Richard what he wanted.  
"The death of the failure so that I might have my rightful place at my mother's side in my Grandfather's organisation… by our mother's orders," at this he met his brother's eyes and smirked. His brother's rage was so easy to read. He had no self-control. He spared a quick glance for Richard's reaction. It just looked sad.

"How many people have you killed?" Bruce asked bringing Damon's attention back to him.

Hah, his father was a predictable man.

"I never bothered counting," Damon said, bored, "But I shall tell you when I first left the womb—"

"You mean the test tube?" Spat the failure.

"—I was ordered to kill the nurse who helped clean me to show my loyalty to mother."  
His father's expression was closed, his brother looked unsurprised, Richard looked horrified.

He sensed suddenly where to go from here.

"It meant nothing," and now his eyes were burning into Richard, a slight smirk appearing on his face, "My mother handed me a knife and I knew exactly what to do with it. I suppose I can thank my brother for that. His memories guided me. It was the first time, but not the last. This was a common thing. When my mother thought I was growing too close to a servant I was ordered to kill them and it meant nothing to me. I don't know why she continued to do it, it only dulled my blade."

He wanted a reaction from the young man. He wanted to see disgust and anger and hatred. He wanted Richard to see that he was powerful, not someone to be trifled with, someone to bow down to. Damon al Ghul would one day rule this world. He would have fear from this naïve foolish man.

Richard's emotions, the anger and disgust and hatred were apparent, but they were not directed toward him and they were mixed with another reaction.

"You poor kid," Richard whispered he probably hadn't intended Damon to hear, but he had and he threw himself against his bonds. Anger boiled his blood.

"I am not a child and am not to be pitied! I am Damon al Ghul the rightful heir of the Demon's Head! I will kill the mistake and I will take everything he has!" Damon yelled.

"Enough," his father held him down by his shoulder, "Your intentions are clear enough."  
His brother was suddenly at his side grabbing him by the collar before his father could intercede.

"You want to try and kill me? I am better than you in every way; you're nothing but a pale copy, a mutation that went wrong. You are nothing but a pawn of mother's in her game against me. That is how valuable you are, a sacrificial pawn!" his brother shoved him back into the bed, "I don't even have to kill you to beat you so take your best shot."

Richard pulled the mistake away. Damon panted angrily.

"I'll kill them all! Your family, your friends! All the people that you want to defend, all the people you've saved! I will kill you slowly, ripping out your guts and feeding them to you and I'll make him watch," Damon's eyes flickered to Richard. Damian moved blocking his eye line. The two glared at one another.

"I'll make him watch before I break him completely!" Damon hissed.

"ENOUGH!" Bruce roared. Damon screamed obscenities and promises of a dark future. Bruce stood.

"Come," He ordered. Richard and the failure followed him out of the room. Damon didn't stop screaming for a long time.

* * *

"And here I thought no one could be worse than the little demon," Tim said watching the security feed. Dick sighed.

"He's completely desensitised… brainwashed… Damian was given freewill, but Damon…"

"He was made to be a monster."

"But he's only a child," Dick said furiously, "How could anyone do this to a child?"

"A lot of people would question the way Bruce raised you," Tim pointed out, still looking over the video with a critical eye.

"That's completely different."

"Not completely, but you know I stand by our lifestyle—hm… This … creature Talia created… it's frightening."

"_He_ is a little boy Tim," Dick corrected looking more upset, "No matter where he came from he's just a little boy. Conner was in the same situation."

"Kon was pulled out before the brainwashing took full effect," Tim turned examining his brother's face, "You're really hurting over this aren't you?"

"It's Damian Tim. This is Damian who didn't meet Bruce, who didn't get a chance."

"Oh Dick," Tim sighed squeezing his brother's shoulder, "Damian's fine… okay that's a stretch… he's not a homicidal maniac … most of the time."

"Thanks Tim," Dick rolled his eyes at his little brother's attempt to console him.

Tim smiled sympathetically his attention brought back to the screen.

"Huh…he reacts to you…"

"What?"

Tim rewound the video.

"Most of the time he's looking at you or Damian." Tim pointed out Damon's line of vision, "He doesn't pay Bruce much attention. Unlike Damian he doesn't seem to have any love or interest in Bruce. He plays it cool, acting as he might with an enemy general interrogating him. But look. Every so often he says something and looks for your reaction. When he talked about killing it was your reaction that set him off. Rather than being clinical and blunt like he had before he went into details trying to get a rise out of you. When you took pity on him it completely set him off. Creatures—people like him want fear and respect, not pity."

Dick frowned watching the video closely.

"You're right…" He said slowly.

Tim laughed, "Then look at Damian, you really can tame demons Dick. He physically puts himself between you and Damon focusing attention on himself. I'll admit… it's kind of sweet—for him—except he gave away something to Damon."

"What's that?"

"That you're more important to Damian than Bruce."

"That's not true." Dick frowned.

"Emotionally? Yes it is. Bruce is an ideal that Damian strives for, Bruce is his dream, but you're his emotional anchor. You were the one that gave him a chance that went beyond hanging around the manor and learning the Wayne family code. I wouldn't have given him the chance. Bruce wasn't going to either, not unless Damian had met Bruce's standards and quite frankly he never would have made it. Bruce doesn't have the patience for a hot head like that. He learned his mistake with Jason."

"Damian's not Jason," there was a hardness in Dick's tone that made Tim wince, "Damian's proved himself more than enough hasn't he?"

"…Yeah, and it's mostly because you looked after him," Tim conceded. Dick rubbed the back of his neck looking a little embarrassed at the very idea of it.

"But it means Damon will probably push at you."

"That's fine," Dick said, "I can take it."

"Bruce has put you on Demon II duty hasn't he?"

"How'd you guess?" Dick rolled his eyes.

"Just be careful Dick. Damon might be similar in some ways to Damian, but he's been raised as a monster with one goal in mind, destroying Damian. He will do anything to complete that mission."

Dick nodded.

"How's Bruce taking it?" Tim asked, "I haven't seen him."

"Tracking down Talia right now. I don't think he knows how to deal with this either."

"I don't blame him," Tim shook his head, "Glad I don't have an obsessed al Ghul trying to have my babies."

Dick chuckled at the thought.

"Just be careful," Tim repeated.

"Got it, I got it," Dick nodded, "I gotta go, it's feeding time."

* * *

**Chapter Three: Pretty Things**

* * *

Damon stared at the ceiling of his prison. There wasn't much to look at. A thick glass wall with some air holes, three cement walls, a bed and not much else. He pondered what his next move should be. Escape and hunt down his brother? Stay and make observations?

His ears perked up. Someone was coming.

He watched the glass and soon enough a tired looking Richard appeared carrying a tray.

"Hey," Richard greeted with a small smile. Damon glared back in response. Richard rubbed the back of his head. He slid the food through a slot and then dragged over a chair sitting down in front of Damon's cell.

"Don't feel chatty huh? That's okay. I brought you food, you must be starving."

Damon gave no response pointedly ignoring the food.

"Come on, I promise it's really good. It's what I'm having later. You get the upside, mine's gonna have to be microwaved…if I can sneak it by Alfred before he offers to make some more," Dick rolled his eyes, "I think he thinks I don't know how to eat properly. Well, maybe he's right. The point is you should take advantage of the hot food."

Richard continued on this vein of conversation. It seemed he was determined to keep talking until Damon gave him some sort of response.

"—at least I think its rice. Maybe cous—"

"What drugs have you added to it?" Damon asked tired of the empty conversation. Richard seemed surprised he had spoken.

"None, we don't do that."

"You did it the first time we met, Richard."

"Okay, that's fair enough," Richard nodded easily accepting being caught in a lie. "Actually that's probably exactly what we'd do…" Richard took the plate of food and the fork. Damon clenched his teeth. Starvation then, if that's how they wanted to play it they'd be surprised. He'd die before he begged for scraps. To his surprise rather than walking away Richard took a bite of the food.

Rubbing it in now…

"Mmm," Richard hummed with an actual appreciation, "Trust me it's worth it. It's vegetarian too." Richard proceeded to take a bite of everything making sure Damon saw this. He then placed the plate back through the slot. Damon frowned down at it.

"Are you competent at maths?" Damon asked slowly looking back up at Richard.

"Captain of Mathletes," Richard answered with a bit of silly pride, "Uh, why?"

"592 divided by 8 plus 3678."

"3762." Richard answered with little hesitation.

"A person went to a horse race, instead of counting the number of humans and horses he counted seventy-four heads and one hundred and ninety six legs. He knew the number of humans and horses there. How many humans and horses are there?"

Richard thought for a moment, "twenty-four horses and fifty humans."  
"Recite the greek alphabet backwards."

"Seriously?!—okay um… psi, hi, fi, ypsilon…taf…sigma, ro, pi…omicron…ksi…uhh ni, mi, lamda, kappa…giota, theta, ita, zeta, epsilon, delta, gamma, beta, alpha."

"The man who invented it doesn't want it. The man who bought it doesn't need it. The man who needs it doesn't know. What is it?"

"You realized I grew up with the Riddler's awful riddles right? The answer's a coffin."

"Take nine from six, ten from nine, fifty from forty and leave six. How is this possible?"

"It's not," Richard said firmly. Damon lifted an eyebrow.

"Oh… it's one of those…" Richard thought about it, "It's roman numerals. SIX – IX = S, IX – X = I, XL – L = X. SIX. Cute."

Damon nodded. He picked up the plate and began to eat. Richard blinked dumbly probably waiting for the next question.

Damon suppressed a pleasurable moan. The food was quite good and he was starving. He did his best to restrain himself from licking the fork every time it past his lips.

"So you're convinced it's not drugged?"

"So it would seem although you mispronounced some of the letters."

"Right…" Richard continued to watch him. When he finished he placed the plate part-way through the slot.

"Full? Want seconds?"

"A prisoner does not dictate the amenities he receives."

"So is that a 'yes, I'm full thanks for dinner?'"

Damon returned to staring at Richard.

"That's a yes." Richard rolled his eyes. He moved to pick up the plate. Damon snatched his wrist through the slot. Usually the size of the slot prevented this, but his small little hand got through.

"Richard." Damon said. He had Richard's ring finger at a painful angle.

"Yeah?" Richard asked tightly.

"You should watch yourself. When I am free, and I will get free Richard, I will come after you. I intend to attack my brother with everything that I have and I will take great pleasure in breaking you before his eyes."  
Once again Richard failed on reacting as Damon would have liked. Instead of fear or anger Richard only chuckled.

"Underestimating me will only bring your downfall!" Damon hissed.

"No, it's not that," Dick shook his head his eyes meeting Damon's through the glass, "It's just that you remind me so much of your brother, the look on your face is so serious. I have no doubt of your ability to 'break me,' but you have to catch me first kid."

With a quick jerk he freed his finger with no damage and grabbed the plate.  
"I'll tell Alfred you enjoyed the food."

* * *

"Why is he still here?" Damian demanded. He had been leaning against the wall waiting for Grayson to emerge from the monster's prison. Grayson sighed wearily.

"What else can we do Damian? I don't like holding him here against his will either."

"That's not it," Damian said darkly, "I don't like that he's in this house. We cannot kill him and sending him back to Mother would only ensure him coming after us, in the end a prison is the only option. I want to know why he isn't in the deepest pit we can throw him into."

"Damian he's your brother."

"He is not my brother." Damian denied, "And you're a fool if you believe showing him any such affection will win him over. He wants to kill me."

"I'm not going to let that happen Damian," Grayson said softly kneeling down to his level, "And you know what your brother has been through better than anyone… we can't just give up on him."

"We can and the fact that we don't might be our undoing," Damian hissed walking away furiously.

* * *

The same pattern persisted. Richard would bring him food. He would make Richard taste first and recite a bunch of riddles and equations and Damon would eat. Usually there would be no words from Damon other than the puzzles and riddles. Richard, the utter fool, seemed to start enjoying it as time went on. He wouldn't talk directly to Richard, but Richard would always talk. He would talk about his day, or a new song that he heard, but mostly he would talk about the Mistake. Rather than feel any sort of kinship with his elder brother it just irritated him that Richard was so focused on him.

"If you must blather, blather about something else," He demanded after the fourth day of what little Damian was doing.  
Richard paused looking at him curiously, "I just figured you want to know about the guy you're planning to kill."

"Yes, but his favorite food and music don't really help me much Richard."

"You can call me Dick."

"…I'm sure many do," Damon said deadpan.

"… was that a joke?" There was a smile twitching on his lips.

"Don't mistake banter for affection Richard, there's little to do here. Did you know that isolation and separation is the perfect conditions for Stockholm syndrome? Is that my Father's plan?"

Richard frowned, "No it's not… it's to keep you out of trouble while we figure out what to do. You said it yourself; this is the lesser of all those evils."

"-Tt- you need to realize that there is no 'good way.' Your morality cannot protect you in this instance Richard. You're foolish to rely on it. You see me as a child? You see me as family? You see me as a human being? None of this matters. I plan to kill my brother and probably you and the rest of your family. The only way to make sure that this does not happen is for you to kill me. Is killing so hard for you?" Damon studied Richard. The usual gentle smile had dropped off and Richard looked serious.

"It's easy to kill," He said at last. Damon narrowed his eyes, "It's too easy. I could leave you in here and let you starve. I could stab you, shoot you, or drown you. There's so many ways that I could kill you Damon."  
"So why don't you?"

"There's a lot of reasons some of them you already listed. You're a child, you're family, you're a human being. I'm not Justice. That's something a lot of heroes forget about. We act in the name of Justice. We strive for the sake of Justice. We avenge wrongs and we bring the bad guys to Justice, but we aren't Justice. I don't have the right to kill anyone and I don't want that right."

"The strong survive the weak die. The strong dictate the weak follow. The world would be better if your so called 'heroes' would only take responsibility. Instead of acting as a bandage they should amputate the diseased arm and save the body. Your heroes could do so much. They could rule the world and no one could stop them. All the 'bad people' would be destroyed and only the good would survive bringing about Utopia."

"That would never happen, even if the League did go crazy and take over the world no one would fall into line, people would fight, all those weak people you underestimate wouldn't stand for it. Utopia would never happen. Besides, I wouldn't want to live in a world where fear is never far away."

"You use fear every day… well Father does at least. His whole existence is to put fear into criminals."

"But not fear into good ordinary people."

"You don't think good ordinary citizens fear the Batman? Don't think twice about stealing because perhaps the Batman might find them and beat them up? Don't be ridiculous Richard. Gotham is a city wrapped in fear. Fear of Father, fear of the next attack that might come from yet another costumed villain. At least the fear they would live in under what I propose would be a fear wrapped in benefits. It would be a promise of health. The fear they live in now is a waiting creeping fear of gas and bombs and freaks. My world is happier than yours."

"Very black and white," Richard sighed, "So I should just kill you and be glad you're dead is that it?"

"Yes," Damon said bluntly.

"Killing's easy," Richard said again, "Fear is easy."

"And you want to do things the hard way?" Damon asked.

"Sounds like me," Richard laughed although there was no humour in it. He paused staring at nothing for a moment.

"I fight to protect those that can't fight."

"Is that supposed to mean something to me?"

"That's my moral code," Richard said, "And killing someone goes against everything I stand for. If I killed I wouldn't be any better than those I hunted."

"-Tt-"

"And not all the murderers and freaks, frightening as they are, are completely beyond redemption."

"You truly believe that?"

"Sometimes… Let me ask you a question. Why do you kill?"

Damon smirked, "Because it is required. An enemy cannot strike you when they are a corpse. A dead man cannot tell secrets. Traitors should not be given second chances."

"Where would you stop?"

"I wouldn't," Damon answered, "I would kill everyone in the world if it means my dominance and survival."

"Including your mother?"

"I have no doubt that one day I'll need to kill her," Damon smirked at Richard's shock, "Mother is a dangerous woman and she has taught me well. Although if I had the choice… someone like you… I think I might keep." Damon trailed his eyes over Richard. Richard's eyes widened slightly.

"What happened to mental superiority over Stockholm syndrome?" Richard asked uneasily. Damon chuckled darkly.

"It's not that I feel attached to you Richard," He felt so smug now. He leaned against the glass running a finger down the cold surface tracing Richard's jawline, "It's that you're pretty and you amuse me. I like pretty things."

"You're twelve… no you're not even that!" Richard said not masking his disgust at the thought.

"-Tt- it hardly matters. It's not as if I need your consent. The difference between your world and mine Richard is that I dictate and get what I want. You serve and get pulled apart. If I want someone like you I'll have you because I'm strong. I take what I please. I don't let morality stop me. Your efforts to save my soul are sweet. Is this what you did for my brother? Feed him some pretty words about justice?"

Richard looked highly uncomfortable, but he kept going.

"No… he came to us himself."

"Then perhaps my brother was meant to carry your weaknesses, but I do not."

"You came to us too." Richard pointed out.

"To kill him."

"But weren't you curious as well?"

"Hm?"

"He's your brother… in fact he's technically your twin from what I understand, not only that but you have his memories from before he came here right? So didn't you wonder about him? Why he left your mother and became Robin?"

"A bit," Damon admitted, "But in the end my brother is something I must overcome so best not to get attached. If I want to become the Demon's head he is the first person I must destroy."

"Him and your mother and your grandfather?"

"Yes, all of them eventually."

"Wasn't there anything you saw about his life that maybe you wanted to understand and not destroy?"

Damon was about to deny this, but then he stopped. He still had that picture.

"No," he said finally, although he had the feeling Richard knew he was lying.

"Doesn't sound like a happy life," Richard said.

"Happy… what does that have to do with anything?"

"Then why do anything at all?"

"…?"

"I mean … what's the reason for existing? Why do you want power? I don't get it. I'm really not the responsible type… being Batman drove me batty, but I did it because I had to. Why do you want power Damon? I thought it might have been jealousy, to win your mother's love from Damian because you felt insecure, but it seems like you don't hold much love for her."

"I love Mother, but I'm practical of the dangers she is to my success." Damon said flatly.

"Then what is this all for? What's the ideal? What's the end goal? What does success look like?"

Damon was silent. He felt a bit cold. He didn't know. He knew he had to kill his brother and things would be better when that happened. He knew he would one day have to go against his mother because she would betray him. He knew his grandfather was dangerous and would attempt to take his body if he let him. He knew he would probably have to kill his father or risk incarceration for acting against his father's code. In the end what did he want though?"

"I plan to rule the world." Damon said at last, "And I find it so very funny that you have a chance to stop me right now, but you won't."

"What a headache," Richard shook his head, "Why'd you want to rule the world? The pay's lousy, everyone wants to overthrow you, and it's not like you can sell it to anyone. You have to go into boring meetings every day to make sure everything is running just the way you like it. Nobody knows how to make your coffee and you fall into paranoia worried that everyone and their puppy is trying to assassinate you."

Damon gave him a strange look.

"Hey, think about it!"

"-Tt-"

"You should think of some short term goals."

"Such as?"

"I don't know, get a girlfriend… or boyfriend… uh, growing a bit, becoming the world's greatest juggler, getting your first kiss? Having kids?"

"All of these things sound pointless. I've no use for a partner and any sexual gratification I want I can just take. Juggling is pointless, I'll only have use for children when I need an heir, and a kiss I can take as easily as sex," Damon smirked suddenly, "Why? Would you like to give me my first kiss?"

"You're really disturbing you know that? Come on. World domination? Really? There's nothing else? What would a punk like you do with the world anyway?"

He had never actually thought about it. All of his goals, all of his plans were written in his DNA and he was uncomfortable thinking that there was no reason behind his actions. That his wants weren't his wants.

The only thing he had ever wanted, the only independent thought outside of his training he had was…

Richard's smile.

"You really aren't good at debate are you?" Damon asked. He was tired of this conversation. Tired of all the things he had to think about.

"I was captain of the debate team."

"I thought you were captain of the math club…"

"I was captain of a lot of things… you know parent with high standards… yeah you would totally understand."

Damon felt a smile slip perhaps not quite happy, but it was partly genuine, "But different sorts of standards."

"You know what you lack? Comic books. I bet you'd be perfectly well adjusted if you read comic books. I'm gonna bring you some. You must be bored stiff anyway. What do you think? Action? Mystery? Superheroes?"

Damon stared as if Richard had grown another head.

"Oh, I know, Spiderman. Everyone loves Spiderman."

"…"

"No… probably not for you? … hmm… I'll think of something!"

"I'll pass."

"It's either that or I show you My Little Pony. Friendship is magic. If that doesn't make you sweeter nothing will."

That sounded terrifying.

"Comic books will do."

"That's what I thought," Richard perked up triumphantly. He stood looking a bit more eager. Started to leave.

"I meant what I said," Damon murmured before he could move out of sight. Richard tensed. Damon leaned against the glass wall taking in the older man's form.

"I like pretty things and you're very pretty."

Richard shivered before moving out of sight.

* * *

**Notes:**

Greek Alphabet was off, let's just not talk about that...

Um, apologies for the "Why don't you kill" conversation, I don't know if I hit the right notes with it.


	2. Fantasies

**Chapter Four: Fantasies**

* * *

Damian watched the whole thing. His hands shook with rage.

"You shouldn't watch. It'll just make you angry."

"Fuck off Drake," Damian didn't even turn from the screen as Tim Drake came up behind him. Drake studied the video of his elder brother and their house guest.

"Disturbing," Tim said quietly, "Dick's wrong, that's not a little boy."

"At last we agree on something," Damian gritted his teeth. He replayed the part where the monster grabbed Grayson's wrist. He swiveled his chair to face Drake. "So what are we going to do about it?"

Drake frowned. Damian watched him closely. The two never got along. Their relationship as brothers was doomed from the very start. They only had two things in common.

The first was Bruce Wayne, but for very different reasons.

The second was Dick Grayson, and it was through him they had common ground.

Drake crossed his arms, "We're going to wait for Batman to return. He'll know what to do." Despite his confident words his eyes were focused on the screen. Dick's shudder as the boy, who wasn't really a boy whispered: "I like pretty things and you're very pretty."

Drake shuddered as well.

"Father is as emotionally wrecked as he gets," Damian said firmly, "And Grayson will do nothing to stop this situation before it goes from bad to disastrous."

"I thought you trust Dick."

"Grayson is the _only_ one I trust," Damian said, thin lipped, "But he is compromised."

"Compromised?"

"He looks at that thing and sees me," Damian sneered gesturing to the screen, "My mother's monster holds unfortunate similarities to me that Grayson picks up on. He thinks he can save it. In fact, he's determined to save it out of his loyalty to me."

"Maybe he can," Drake mused. He was looking down at Damian. The teen felt his hackles rise.

"Don't compare it to me! You see it don't you? Surely you of all people would see it," Damian hissed, "Look closer, look at how he acts. Look past the blatant taunts, the disturbing language, what do you see Drake. You're supposed to be a 'great detective,' use your observation skills."

Drake looked tense at being told to do _anything _by Damian, but to his credit he didn't argue. He stared at the screen as the video started replaying itself.

"He reacts to Grayson," Damian said urgently.

"I know that already."

"No, he _reacts_ to Grayson."

Drake gasped softly, he finally saw it too.

"It's not just a game," The older teen murmured, "I thought he was just trying to freak Dick out…I didn't think he would actually… he's only a kid, he hasn't even hit puberty!" Drake said in a rush.

"He hasn't been out of the test tube very long," Damian explained, "He's learning things as he goes, but he's been force fed information at the same time. Information that usually children don't receive. He's learning desire as he watches Grayson on the other side of the glass. Not only because Grayson is… a rather attractive individual and probably the kindest person he's ever met—which really isn't a stretch, but because Grayson is mine."

Drake turned away from the screen back to face Damian with an angry look.

"From his perspective, not mine," Damian amended seeing he was losing the older teen, "I was raised on stories of my father. I was taught to emulate him. My goal was to one day replace him. That thing is different," Damian pointed at the screen, "He was raised on stories of my betrayal and mistakes. He was made to fix them. He wants to kill me to take my place. He wants to take everything I have."

"How did you notice? I mean his …tendencies towards Dick."

"He resembles me. It's easy to read his face and… for obvious reasons our tastes are similar."

Drake looked disturbed again. Damian rolled his eyes.

"Unlike it I _have_ hit puberty. Don't worry I have no intention of acting on it."

"Why?" Drake asked curiously.

"Grayson is ten years my elder so he'll never touch me. He's also straight so he'll never touch me."

And I would hurt him so I'll never touch him. He didn't mention that part to Drake.

"You also don't have red hair," Drake pointed out, "So he'll never touch you."

"Yes," Damian said in irritation, "There is that too."

Despite his annoyance he was glad that Drake would turn it into a joke rather than a sappy moment. He only mentioned it because he was quite certain Drake had already observed his own desire when it came to Grayson. Damian was mature enough to know he had a crush. Grayson was sexually desirable, and their relationship had made Damian emotionally dependent on his father's eldest son. It was no more than a student's admiration blown up by hormones. It would end soon enough.

This is what he repeated to himself over and over in the morning when he took his cold shower.

Grayson was either oblivious to any indiscretion on Damian's part, or polite enough not to mention it.

"So what are we going to do then?" Drake asked glancing back at the video.

"We stop it."

"How."

"Grayson had his shot. He tried his best, but it isn't working," Damian said quickly before Drake could change his mind. "All that he's doing is allowing it to get inside his head and worse, the creature is becoming more obsessed."

He quickly typed something and another video came on. Damon was sitting cross legged on his bed eyes closed a comic book in his lap. He was muttering something to himself that Tim couldn't quite catch.

Damian looked over at Drake a grim expression on his face, "Prepare to be disturbed."

Damian put up the volume to max. It wasn't the best quality of sound.

"Is that… that sounds like Dick's voice." Drake said in horror. He went silent tilting his head toward the speaker. Damian already knew what he was saying, word for word.

"_Please, Damon, don't hurt these people … __**Then be obedient Richard**__ …what do you want me to do? __**Take off your clothing."**_

Drake threw himself back, "Turn it off."

"Gladly." Damian closed the video, "It seems it also has my ear for impressions."

"Have you shown Dick?"

"Would you?"

Drake looked conflicted.

"You wouldn't," Damian said, "You'd spare him it and do something about it."

"…Yeah."

"He can't be in contact with it anymore. It's just fueling its own twisted little fantasies. You look after the beast, he's indifferent to you. We'll wait for father's return. He'll have a permanent solution. Until then we separate them."

"…Agreed."

* * *

Comic books _were_ rather amusing. At first Damon only looked through them out of pure boredom. He saw Richard three times a day for meals, but they barely conversed except during dinner and then it was only if Richard pulled him (more like tricked him) into a conversation.

Richard had brought him Spider-Man comics which were simple, but had some interest to them. Secretly the young hero reminded him of Richard with all of his awful jokes and light spirit. The next time Richard came he asked if he enjoyed the books.

"They gave me something to do."

So Richard would bring him more mixing it up a bit.

"It's like Scheherazade with comic books," Richard laughed.

"They're interesting, but the characters are foolish. If they told their loved ones their secret identity it would cut out a large amount of the bullshit and would allow them to get back to the business of capturing villains."

Richard looked interested, "But sometimes that puts their loved ones in danger."

Damon glanced from the comic book to Richard raising his eyebrow, "No. By knowing of their identity the families could better prepare themselves for the inevitable attack from the freak of the week. Father's system is much more efficient."

"Bruce has a system?"

"When he finds people he cares for either they can already take care of themselves like Selina Kyle, or they have the potential to be trained in self defense like yourself. If any of you are captured or used as leverage you have a higher chance of escape than the goons in these comic books. Things become less messy. I am coming after my brother. Because his identity is not secret from you, you are able to assist him in my incarceration and when I escape you probably won't be blindsided by an attack on your person. It would make things easier if you were as oblivious as the characters in the comics."

"Ah…" Richard scratched his head. Obviously Damon was missing some sort of point.

"And the fact that Parker for instance thinks the people he loves will be ashamed is obviously wrong. The red haired whore likes Spider-Man better and Aunt May would support Spider-Man instantly if she knew it was Parker under the mask."

"Uh huh…"

"Not to mention he should be able to sue J. Jonah Jameson for slander several times over."

"Well, the last part not so much, he's a vigilante and to be able to sue he'd have to reveal his secret identity to everyone."

"He would win the court case if Tony Stark lent him his high priced lawyers. These people are all morons."

"Well that's one way to look at it," From the twitch of his lips it was obvious Richard was trying not to show amusement.

"What?" Damon asked flatly.

Richard's smile bloomed and Damon's heart beat a little faster. The acrobat hesitated looking rueful, "You sound like a kid—no." Damon was about to protest, but Dick held up a hand, "It's good, it's nice to see you taking an interest in something other than world domination and murder."

Damon couldn't decide whether he should rebuke Richard or stay silent and bask in his gentle joy.

"It does get boring talking about the same things I suppose," Damon said slightly standoffish. Richard snickered in response. It felt… it felt too comfortable.

"The comic books have opened up new things for me. Things that I didn't get from my education," Damon said. Richard noticed the change in atmosphere, his smile became more fixed and his body language more tense, but asked the question anyway.

"Oh, what's that?"

"When I have nothing else to do, which is quite often, I'll imagine myself in the role of the characters."

Richard's tension dissipated a little, "That's normal. Lots of people do that. When I was a kid I used to pretend to be Superman." He looked a bit embarrassed at the admission, perhaps because of his father's ties to the alien.

Damon hummed, "And sometimes I'll put you there with me." He pressed a page of one of his comics up against the glass. Richard went red. The panel was of Spider-Man and MJ wrapped around each other kissing.

"It's a bit different in my own head," He said quietly watching every twitch and expression on the acrobat's face, "It's less consensual, you're less willing."

Richard stared at the picture for a long time, perhaps to avoid looking at Damon.

"I'm flattered," He obviously wasn't. Richard was being very careful with what he was saying. He looked at Damon serious, but also sincere, "And a fantasy is a fantasy, but I don't feel comfortable with a person your age expressing that toward me."

Damon wasn't quite sure how to respond to this request.

Richard continued, "You're a … an early bloomer. You're discovering things about your body and what you like, but you—"

"Are you giving me a lecture on sexual education?" Damon interrupted. Richard looked startled by the question. "Because I'm quite aware of how it all works."

"Ah…" Richard opened his mouth and then quickly closed it. Damon watched. He was obviously steeling himself. "No Damon, I'm not giving you the sex talk, I'm having a conversation with you about feelings."

Damon stared at him as if he wasn't computing what Richard was saying.

"You're…?" Damon squinted. He had never had a conversation like this.

"I have no attraction to you," Richard said firmly, "But that doesn't mean I'm rejecting you as a person. I want to be your friend, but I'm never going to touch you or take advantage of your feelings. You're a bright kid. I know you get what I'm saying."

Damon scowled, "And I have already told you that that doesn't matter." He threw the comic book to one side, "If I want you I'll have you. I intend to take advantage of you, it isn't the other way around."

Richard looked sad. Damon wished he would stop it. The acrobat looked to one side eyelashes lowered for a moment.

"I'm not naïve Damon."

"You're the most naïve man I've ever met," Damon hissed.

"You… have been raised as Damian's executioner right?"

"AND INSTANTLY IT ALL COMES BACK TO HIM, DOES IT?!" Damon exploded. He hated it! He hated that it always came back to his brother. His useless failure brother who had everything.

"I wasn't the one that made it all about him, you were," Richard insisted. Damon slammed his fist against the glass and gave a cry of frustration and pain. Richard hovered staring down as Damon clutched his now injured hand.

"It's about me," Damon growled softly. He looked up. Richard was sitting on the chair now blue eyes fixed on his hand. Richard shook his head.

"If he hadn't done all these things to displease your mother you never would have been born."

Damon's heart froze. The shock must have shown on his face because Richard was looking compassionate again.

"She made it your life mission to kill your brother. You don't have to Damon, you can do anything you want. You can choose your own path."

"I want to kill him."

"But do you really?" Richard looked down at his own hands, "Or was that just what your Mom told you?"

"I want to kill him," Damon repeated, he really did because—"He had the chance to get everything that I want and to get it for myself I have to kill him. Weren't we talking about you and me a moment ago? It has nothing to do with him."

"He's your older brother and he's _my_ brother. He has everything to do with it. I'm trying to tell you that you don't have to destroy Damian to get everything he has. It's never a matter of a body in the ground. Killing someone simultaneously can change everything and nothing at all."

"He'll be dead! That's good enough for me!"

"But you'll still be you, in the same situation you've been in all this time. You'll still be your mother's soldier and your grandfather's pawn. You'll still be alone."

That… that wasn't fair. The pity and truth of what Richard was saying swirled through him. Damon had Plato and Socrates downloaded into his brain, but Richard's arguments—they were filled with flaws and yet they still affected him! Lonely, what was loneliness? He had been alone his whole life. He wasn't trying to change that, that wasn't his goal. His goal was to kill his brother so that Damon could have the life that Damian rejected.

And by rejecting that life Damian had inadvertently set the motions for Damon's birth and education.

Thinking of it that way, as if his whole life were his brother's cast-offs, it made him feel sick. He was more than this. He was more!

His brother had set about his birth, perhaps he owed him his life, but his brother had also ensured this lack of life. This set of goals with no meaning, this hatred with no end. Damian ensured that he was alone and yes… yes maybe he didn't want to be alone anymore.

None of this change the fact that he wanted to kill his older brother… in fact it cemented it. His life was his brother's accidental design? Fine, but Damon would never have more than the glimpses of what Richard was trying to offer him. His rage went too deep, he was … programed that way… and that was all on Damian.

"Damon?"

And Damian should die for it.

Damon leaned forward, "I won't be alone Richard, I'll have you." He smiled. He could see by the reflection on the glass that it was an ugly smile, but that's what he wanted. "Because you can't offer me an alternative. You try to convince me to walk my own path? You couldn't even manage to do that yourself and you had every opportunity one could have. You became Batman. What better proof that children never stray far from their parents? If I accepted your sweet offers of friendship what would it get me? Perhaps you'd eventually let me out of this cage if I acted nice enough, but there would always be suspicion. You would always wait for the knife at his throat. You care about my brother too much to actually take a chance on me. Your pretty words are only that. You know I will never accept what you offer me, but to soothe your conscience you dangle friendship and chances in front of me. You're crueler than I first gave you credit for."

Richard didn't speak. He let Damon's words wash over him.

Damon laughed, "I was wrong. You're not naïve. You've been manipulating me from the beginning. Oh, I'm sure you're a very caring person. In fact from your file I've confirmed that the majority of the superheroes of this country have some sort of connection to you. Mightier men than us would mourn if you died, that is something, but that is how you survive. You use people. You manipulate people, for their own good, for their safety, but you play on their fears and their emotions, and their love to effectively fight your battles. That's impressive. People are loyal to you, it's what makes you a good leader, your charisma. It's affected me as well, but here's the thing. You will never let someone you love be put in danger. Not after the death of Donna Troy." A flash of pain, "You will never let me out, even if I reform because there is always a chance that I end up killing your 'little brother.' I've read your file. It's an interesting story, but incomplete. I can read between the lines. Desmond didn't die because he was a bad person and a threat to you and you were tired. Desmond died because he was a threat to Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake, Barbara Gordon and everyone else you loved. He knew who you were. He could have killed you before your last confrontation easily." Damon smiled, "He knew how to hurt you. If I were him, if I wanted to harm you Richard. If I wanted to tear you apart, break you into pieces and destroy you I would kill everyone you loved, everyone you saved… anyone that even spoke to you, but I wouldn't touch you. Survivors guilt is how to tear you apart… Bludhaven has always been a heavy crown upon your head, hasn't it? Because you were supposed to protect them? And those were total strangers. I can only imagine what a family member's body would do to you. I wonder what would have happened if Bruce Wayne hadn't found you after your parents fell. Was that your fault too?"

Richard's knuckles were white, teeth clenched, eyes looking directly not at him, but through him.

"So Desmond had to die, to save all of them," He chuckled, "I'm not judging you, but you haven't been straight with me. You will never let me go while I am a danger to our brother. Because you care about him so **damn** much. Do you know the best part?" Damon asked softly pressing his uninjured hand to the glass, "The best part is even if I fail I know that one day, probably very soon _he_ will fail. He will fail to live up to your morality because my brother is me. A collared, perfumed version of me. He is a killer and he will kill again." Damon pressed his forehead against the glass burning Richard's face into his memory, " So I'm going to get out," Damon said calmly, "I'm going to get out and kill my brother and kill my mother and kill my grandfather and become the Demon's Head because maybe it was my mother's goal in the beginning, but it's mine now. But don't worry, I won't be lonely because I'll have you and anyone that so much as looks at your pretty face without my permission will be put to death and that will be your fault, won't it?"

"THAT'S ENOUGH!"

"I'm done with him for now Brother," Damon said expressionlessly, "Although having him sit quietly with that expression is lovely. I'll remember it fondly I think."

His brother was now at Richard's side clutching the older man's arm. Richard inhaled and exhaled slowly, calmly. His static stare ended, a bit of lustre came back into previously dull eyes and he looked over at Damian with a sad hopeless smile.

"That's enough," Damian repeated this time to Richard.

* * *

"I want to talk to my… to Damon," Damian said still gripping Grayson's arm. The older man looked between the two, maybe about to protest.

"It's time," Damian said firmly, "He's made his stance against me quite clear. Perhaps I can convince him otherwise. You can't fight this battle for me Grayson. Father's returning in three days' time, we got his communication moments ago. I'm sure he will have a solution to our problem, but before that happens I want to…"

Grayson nodded in understanding, "I get it." He put his hand on Damian's shoulder and he allowed it, more for Grayson's comfort than his own.

"I'll go." Grayson stood and looked down at him for a long moment.

"I'll be fine," Damian insisted. The monster's… Damon's expression was anything but pleased. Grayson walked away. Damon's eyes didn't move off the older man until he was gone. Damian wondered if this was to annoy him or it was just because the little shit couldn't help itself.

"I didn't think you would want to talk," Damon said with a completely neutral face. All the expression it had when Grayson was in the room was gone, replaced with complete apathy.

"I don't really," Damian sat on the empty chair and leaned back looking the boy, the creature in front of him up and down. He had disabled the cameras before he left. Even if Grayson or Drake wanted to listen in they would have a hell of a time trying to get them to work. "I want you to understand that it doesn't matter what my father decides. I'm going to deal with you."

"Kill me?" blank eyes. Not even a twitch of fear, not even curiosity. Did he have a good poker face or did he really feel nothing for who he called brother?

"No," Damian shook his head, "I'll find the deepest pit on earth and I'll put you in it, but I'll make sure that there's a tiny patch of sky that you'll be able to see while you grow old and die a useless death. A death of nothing. No accomplishments, no one will know or remember your name when you breathe your last breath. Perhaps he will be a warm memory for you to play over and over while you slowly go insane with your boring useless little life. That's my plan for you, Damon."

"You can try."

"I shall," Damian nodded, "But I want you to know, you're wrong about him. He honestly wants to redeem you, not for his own conscience, but for mine. He wants to spare me from guilt I **won't** feel at whatever fate you land. Do you know what that makes him?" Damian grinned nastily, "That makes him mine."

There it was, there was the anger. It was the only way to hurt the little bastard and god, Damian wanted him to hurt after all the shit he said to Grayson. He knew Grayson wasn't an object, but claiming ownership was the only thing Damian had over the monster's head.

"And no matter what you do. No matter how many pitiful little tantrums you throw to get his attention, no matter how many times he smiles at you in kindness or pity he will always **be** mine."

"Not for long."

"You'll not see him again," Damian said firmly, "I've seen to that. No more kindness. No more comic books. From now on you are no longer a guest, you are a prisoner."

Damon was trying to keep playing it cool, but Damian saw the small cracks of rage and resentment. He would try to escape soon now that he no longer had Grayson to look forward to. He would tell himself his fact finding mission is over and that it was time some blood was spilt.

"Go ahead," Damian said as if reading his mind, "We'll be ready."

* * *

**Authors Notes:**

* * *

...I'm not gonna lie Damon disturbs me too, like there are times when I get creeped out but leave lines in because he's supposed to be that creepy, but it's not his fault he was raised in a test tube! (Okay totally not an excuse, Damian and Kon turned out fine after all-well mostly)

And just to clarify Damian is saying lines like "Grayson is mine" because he's pissed off at Damon and wants to hurt the kid and the only thing that gets Damon to rage out is Damian having what he wants.

Yes apparently Spider-Man is apparently a thing in the DC universe and Dick apparently has Spiderman-Comics... he had a thing for MJ and her red hair, you know he did.

Next chapter blood is shed and Damon attempts his escape. Will he succeed? Tune in next time.


	3. Save Me

**Chapter Five****: Save Me**

* * *

Richard didn't come for breakfast. Instead it was Tim Drake with a closed look on his face. He didn't attempt any communication. He only slid the tray through the slot and left, not waiting to see if Damon would eat or not.

Damon didn't eat it. He wasn't beyond any fear of drugs or poison, especially after his brother's promise. It wasn't worth the risk. He looked at the food without touching it and then stared at the camera sullenly before turning away and sitting on his bed. In his mind he ran through all the plans that might succeed before his father's return. With Batman, any escape would be nearly impossible.

While he did this he spoke out loud and clearly, no longer a quiet murmur. He told himself it was to keep his enemies off balanced, but secretly he hoped Richard would be listening.

"Do you want to know how I would like to kill him?"

"No."

The potential threats he had to deal with were this: His brother, Drake, Richard, and Alfred Pennyworth. Those four for sure, with the potential of other members of Batman Inc.

"You don't really have a choice."

"I thought you didn't like talking about your brother."

–Even the Richard in his head was annoyingly astute.

He didn't know where exactly he was being held. It could either be the Batcave under his father's manor or the Batbunker located under Wayne Tower.

"You're right," Damian agreed with himself, "I'd rather talk about you and me."

"In what sense?"

He'd need two plans. He knew the layout of both. His grandfather's old files gave a detailed account of the cave. The bunker was more complicated. Ra's al Ghul had less interest in Richard Grayson's Batman and his mother had never been able to get the underground layout. He knew the rest of Wayne Tower though.

"In the sense of what I want from you. What I'd like to do to you."

"I already know what you want to do to me."

Either way, the first step would have to be getting out of his cell. The system was quite advanced. He wouldn't be able to break it from the inside even with more complicated tools than a fork and plate.

"Why don't you describe it then… in detail?"

"You want control. I can tell by the way you look at me that you're possessive of me. You don't want anyone looking at me, touching me, talking to me. You want me all to yourself. You're such a child. Greedy. What would you even do if you had me?"

The plan then had to focus on the psychological. He had a few angles. The camera was both a boon and a hindrance. Tim Drake and his three meals a day. Perhaps he could rely on Richard's emotions. There was also his brother's rage. Pennyworth would be a wild card. Those would be the tools he had to work with.

"A lot of things." Damon answered distracting himself with his own distraction. Although he did have an understanding of sex he wasn't actually sure what he would do with another person's body. If he were being honest with himself and not trying to incite his enemies into reaction, what he would really want from Richard was to be held. He imagined being wrapped in those long arms, the young man's chin on the top of his head in a complete embrace. It would be… warm. They would be together in the sunshine. Richard would be radiating his usual pleasantness and Damon would be… sleepy, comfortable, safe. That was the dream that mostly came to mind when he got past his own rage and need to deal his brother pain by punishing Richard. Some things got added in hindsight. It would be in a private garden, **his** private garden, after he had finally finished his business here. They would be alone, completely alone with each other. His servants and followers would know better than to look upon him and his most cherished without permission.

But safety and warmth weren't the only draw, there was an aesthetically pleasing quality to Richard as well…

…but anyway, his only chance was to get one of them to come inside his prison. Then he had a chance to overpower them and escape, with a potential hostage.

"I've seen your uniform. It's very tight. It leaves very little to the imagination. It could be paint. I think I'd like to compare."

The image of Richard naked covered in black and blue paint distracted him from his plans. He got a flash of Richard's naked back, his head turned looking back toward Damon that joy, that smile he had given to Damian now aimed at him…

"You'd like to paint me? I didn't know you were an artist."

The Richard in his mind joked. He wasn't sure if he said it out loud or not. The Richard in his head didn't strike a true comparison with the real one, but the painted smiling Richard reflecting on the glass in his mind was right. Like the one that held him in his arms sleepy in the garden.

He lay back letting the image buzz in his mind. The conversation and plans stopped. He could feel the paint on his fingers—he must have been the painter after all. He wondered if he could draw Richard like the characters in the comic books. He wished he had a paper and pen. To see if he could capture it. He decided he probably couldn't. Richard was such a person of energy. A static picture wouldn't portray him correctly.  
He closed his eyes. Richard would turn, move forward. He would crawl on the bed. The paint would still be wet as the hero dragged two blue fingers down Damon's cheek, an impish smile. Damon found himself smiling back at the phantom. In his mind he mirrored the phantom running his fingers down Richard's cheek. Richard gently took his wrist and pulled Damon's fingers toward his lips, gently kissing them light and sweet.

Damon realized he had his own fingers pressed to his lips.

Focus! He only had three days!

* * *

"I haven't seen you in this room for a very long time, Richard."

Dick looked up. He was in his old room lying on his bed staring at the ceiling. He didn't force the smile he might have shown to Tim or Damian. He allowed himself the selfishness of showing his own melancholy.

"I haven't had the time—and sometimes I'm so busy moving away from my past that I feel … uncomfortable about it… but they were good times Alfred, simpler times when you knew who was good and who was bad."

Alfred gripped the younger man's shoulder. Just as Dick allowed himself to show that he was everything but alright, Alfred in turn allowed his shell of butler to fall and be a man, a Grandfather. He was always what Bruce Wayne and his brood needed. He was cynical morality and a straightforward butler to Bruce. He was unflinchingly proper to Damian. With Tim he was silent, allowing the boy so caught in his own head to express himself. To Dick he was a parent. Many people saw two sides to Dick. The side that was quick thinking and overly prepared: a hero without super powers. The other half, the friend, the leader, the wit, the sociable one. Many allies who knew both Nightwing and his mentor questioned where it came from. It came from Alfred. Alfred had raised him equally with Batman and Alfred allowed Dick to retain his more social identity. It was rare he got credit for it.

Maybe Alfred was more himself with Dick as well. Both were of the preforming arts. Both used their acting skills for the benefit of others. Together there was enough love and trust and equal footing, both seconds to Bruce Wayne in their own right, to let their masks fall.

"The child frightens you."

"Yeah," Dick admitted. "What he's going to become. It seems so damn inevitable."

Alfred sat down beside him, "Do you honestly believe that?"

Dick shook his head, "No, I don't. You can't be doomed at ten, heck he's not even ten from what Damian's told me. He's been alive for three years and has only spent one out of the test tube. That isn't fair Alfred. How can someone do that to a child, hell to a human being? Talia's the monster, not him… I just want to help him." He whispered looking down.

"I have every confidence that you already have," Alfred said encouragingly.

Dick shook his head, "You haven't seen him, the way that he looks at me, the way that he talks."

"It's never easy, it's always slow, but you've had results before, with Timothy you became a brother as you did with Damian…and even with Jason."

Dick winced, "Jason…"

"He wasn't a failure Richard."

"… We… almost came to a good place me and Jason," Dick said softly, "And then he died and he came back and everything was too screwed up to salvage and it became too damn complicated. If I had been around, if I hadn't been so damn prideful, if I had been able to look back for just one goddamn second then maybe it would have ended differently. When I saw him again…I still don't know if he was playing me, but either way he felt abandoned."

"Richard, being there for Jason wouldn't have removed the crowbar from the Joker's hand."

"But if I had—"

"There are many times, young man, that I have taken the burden of guilt. I look at Master Bruce's life, I look at Batman and I see myself as responsible. If I had raised him differently. If I had said something, done something, stopped him, not enabled him."

"Bruce chose his own path."

"So did Jason. I won't lie to you Richard, there are moments that shape a person's life. There are people that change the direction of where someone will end up, I've seen it before. You and Master Damian… I fear what path that boy would have taken without you."

"You shouldn't blame yourself for Bruce's darkness," Dick said quietly, "You're the reason he's still human… sometimes I forget that Bruce is fallible. I forget that he cares, but he does and it's because you took his hand and stopped him from becoming the monster he had the potential of being. Can you imagine a Batman with no morals? You're the reason for Bruce's light… you're the reason he took in an orphaned circus boy when he had everything to lose by doing so. A billionaire, super hero and father? He didn't need the extra baggage that came with me, but he took it on. It's because you made him a good person Alfred, you made _me_ a good person."

"It is my belief Richard that you are innately good. There is very little that could change that, but I will take the credit."

The younger man laughed with the older for a moment.

"Damon's an impossible situation."

"My boy, at ten you were flying across the Gotham skyline, at sixteen you led your own highly effective team of young heroes and at eighteen you walked on alien planets under foreign suns. In adulthood you became your own man with enough sense of self to not get lost under the cowl of the Bat. You're my boy. Nothing is impossible for you. Perhaps difficult, perhaps improbable, but with you there's always a chance, especially if it has to do with people. You know them Richard. You know how to love them."

Dick's smile bloomed, "You really know how to cheer a guy up Alfie… but I've made a lot of mistakes too."

"And you will again," Alfred said gently, "And there will be people you will fail, but unlike Bruce you have not taken on the childish notion that you must save everyone from the same pain you've felt. You know that people write their own destiny, don't you? You can play a role, you can offer a new path, but they must choose. You are only human, a lesson Batman has not learned, and it is your humanity which might get through to the boy."

Dick nodded with a small frown, "Tim and Damian have banned me from seeing him." He looked down for a moment semi-amused at what he just said, "I mean it's not like they could stop me but…"

"Perhaps a good strategy given how deeply the boy is affecting you."

"But how can I help him if I can't see him?"

"Perhaps you should first ask yourself who else might need help in this unfortunate situation?"

* * *

Damian watched the monitor in irritation. He kept telling himself it was only three days. Three days until he could wash his hands of this whole business. Father would come back, he would know what to do and he would send Grayson away. His Father would see the danger the little beast posed to Grayson. Damian could stand to see his mother's hatred, her Frankenstein's monster looking at him with stony disgust filled blue eyes, but he couldn't stand to see those eyes turned to Grayson. He couldn't stand to look upon the desperation and desire that might have mirrored his own at one time.

Damian breathed through his nose and out through his mouth, focus. He stared at the screen. Damon had stopped his unsettling ramblings.

"_I've seen your uniform. It's very tight. It leaves very little to the imagination. It could be paint. I think I'd like to compare."_

The monster stopped, got a faraway look. The talking had stopped, out loud at least, but Damian had the unsettling feeling that it continued in the monster's head. That it wasn't all just to rile him up, that some of it was his own true feelings…

Damian felt disgusted. He watched the young creature bring his fingers to his lips as if musing on a kiss that was just shared.

He was right about Grayson's uniform though, it was too tight. Damian was fairly sure that it was on purpose. That it wasn't only meant to have the least amount of wind resistance, but also it was meant to distract. He had never had the courage to ask directly knowing that Grayson would tease him for it, but from his own observations of villains (and allies) it was apparent the effects it had.

Damian jerked to attention, his mind had drifted and now he was—

He growled in frustration and moved away from the monitors. He needed to get his mind off this. Damon's presence was not only a danger, a hindrance and, truthfully, a psychological meltdown filled with mother (and father) issues waiting to happen. He also reminded Damian of his own repressed feelings towards his former guardian-towards his _brother_.

Damian relocated to the training mats. He moved through several exercises calming his breathing.

"Damian."

He opened his eyes. Grayson. He was perched on the railing looking down at him. He held up a hand in greeting.

"What?" He asked brusquely. Why did he have to be so ridiculous… and bendy…

"I think we need to talk."

"I've told you what I think," He continued his exercises.

"Yeah, told me," Grayson nodded, "And I told you some stuff too, but Damian, we haven't talked yet. I've been focusing on him, but you must be hurting."

Damian shook his head, "You've been foolish. Because of a shallow similarity you've let him take advantage of you."

"Yeah, a bit."

Damian blinked at the admission.

Dick smiled sadly.

"We used to talk."

"No we didn't."

"Damian we—"

"You certainly didn't talk to me when you decided to leave me."

Dick froze. Damian snapped his mouth shut.

They stared at each other for a moment.

"I never left you."

Damian felt his bitterness rise, "No, I suppose you haven't yet, but we both know it's a matter of time. As soon as you took off the cowl and put back on your old uniform it was only a matter of time right? It's not Nightwing and Robin after all."

"We go on missions all the time—"

"Don't play stupid!" Damian snapped. He had gone from quiet to yelling. Anger boiled under his skin, it was the monster's fault, but it was Grayson's fault too. "Don't treat me like a child, you know me better than that! It's a transition. It's only until Father and I can work together without exploding."

Dick stared at him for a long moment.

"Tell me what I've said isn't true."

"You're right," Dick admitted. He was still hanging from the railing, as if he didn't want to come down, as if he wanted the distance and the thought of that hurt. It hurt Damian more than he would care to admit. "Bruce and I… we've never even talked about it, but you're right, it's the obvious conclusion. Robin belongs with Batman and I can't be Batman anymore."

"You never asked how I felt about it. You never asked if I wanted to end our partnership… you never told me you had a problem with it," He couldn't stop himself. It had been in his heart so long. Every time his Father took patrol with him instead of Nightwing. Every time Grayson was sent out of town for his missions without him. He felt it. No matter how often they were together they were coming apart and worse, the end wouldn't be a final declared moment of comradely. They would just fade out until Grayson would be rarely around and Damian would be alone in his Father's shadow.

"I never had a problem with our partnership Damian I—"

"You didn't care enough to let me know. Suddenly you're not Batman anymore, suddenly you're Nightwing and Nightwing doesn't have a partner. You think I wouldn't notice? Suddenly everything was changing and I didn't get any say."

Grayson leaned down, "Damian—"

"Don't bother, it was never about me, I know that."

"… I'm sorry," Grayson was obviously stunned. He probably hadn't seen it, but that was on purpose. Damian tried to hide it. He didn't want Grayson to know how deeply he felt.

"How could I expect you to be something you're not?" Damian said softly, "You've done a lot for me, you've been—" My guardian, my guidance, my partner, my friend, my first love "—a brother to me, but you're not my father, you tried to take his place, but when he came back…"

"I love being your partner," Dick said quietly, "We fit together well. I haven't felt that way about anyone for a long time. Probably not since the early days with Bruce, and we eventually fell apart. But you and I can't _just_ be partners."

"What do you mean?" Damian asked quickly. His heartbeat quickened, but he wouldn't allow himself to blush. He felt the tips of his ears heat up.

"I'm twenty-five," Dick said, "Being Batman was a lot to deal with, but I was Batman, the leader of the Justice League, and I was your guardian. Alfred helped a lot, but suddenly my childhood flashed back and I realized how hard it must have been for Bruce when he took me in. He wasn't much older and he had all that pressure, but he's Bruce Wayne and I… well I'm just Dick Grayson."

"You should give Dick Grayson more credit," Damian murmured. Hearing it laid out… "Was I a burden?"

"You were a responsibility," Grayson corrected.

"That's another word for burden," Damian said bluntly.

"A burden is something you have to lug around against your will. You've always walked beside me and I've never had to worry about you in the field… that's not the responsibility that weighed down on me."  
Damian frowned, "Then what?"

"You were a little boy," Dick answered, "You weren't just Robin to me. If it was all work I could have dealt with that. I've worked with younger heroes before, but I was terrified with you. Suddenly I had to raise a ten-year-old boy, a genius ten-year-old boy. And you weren't dealing with schoolyard bullies, you were dealing with life and death and morality. I didn't want to wreck you, especially since I liked you so much."

Damian mentally smiled. He was wrecked before Dick Grayson ever met him. In fact parts of him had been fixed by knowing Grayson and the rest of their family and allies. Slowly he was building himself into something strong and Grayson could be thanked for hammering in the first nail.

"I'm older now."

"Yeah," Grayson said as if looking at him for the first time in a long time, "I forget sometimes… you're not a little kid anymore." The, 'you're not an adult either though,' was kindly left unsaid although Damian knew it lurked under the surface.

"So why can't we just be partners?"

"Part of it is that you deserve to learn from the best and Bruce is the best," Dick said as a matter-of-factly, "Maybe not the best at 'teamwork,' but you want to be Batman one day. He's Batman." Dick looked down reluctant to continue, "The other reason though, it's…"

Damian tensed.

"Maybe it's childish, but I don't want what happened between Bruce and me to happen to us. That one day you'd leave me filled with resentment and we wouldn't be able to talk again for years."

"Hah," Damian barked. He stared at Grayson for a moment and wondered for a moment why he laughed when he realized, "Grayson, you really don't see it do you?"

"What?"

"You have a pattern," Damian said dismissively, "You get close to people and you make deep emotional connections because you are such a … familial creature, but you run away. From him, from the Titans, the Outsiders, Gotham City, Bludhaven, New York, the Cowl. It's not out of fear or cowardice," Damian said quickly, "You go where you're needed. You help establish foundations. I wouldn't leave. Did you really think I would ever leave you voluntarily? … I wouldn't. You're the one that's going to leave me Grayson, just like you left him. You want to leave before I become too attached, maybe because it's necessary."

Grayson flinched. He had slid off his perch and was now level with Damian. The teen moved closer, "It's too late, I'm already attached. You're my best friend." He was definitely blushing now, "You're the one I trust implicitly and I don't want you to leave me. I don't want you to fade into the background and disappear, to go off with your circus or become the guardian of another city. I'm my father's son, but you taught me about articulating what I feel. This is me expressing my feelings… it's really hard."

He was bright red now. He felt humiliated, but Grayson needed to hear.

Grayson looked down not meeting Damian's eyes for a moment. "You're better at it than I am," Grayson finally said, "I talk a lot, but it's obvious I don't let you know what's in my heart. I don't want you to feel insecure about our relationship." He looked up, "I love you." Damian felt pinned by his eyes, "Never doubt that, okay?"

Damian grunted, but his eyes shifted away, "I know that Grayson."

"And I know you love me. You're a fourteen year old boy, I'm not going to make you say it."

Damian nodded minutely.

"And it's hard, because the people you love the most can also harm you the most."

Damian looked up again.

"You can expect an enemy to attack and hurt. You can trust an enemy to have the worst intentions towards you, but a friend, when a friend hurts you it cuts deeper. I should have noticed how you were feeling."

"You weren't supposed to," Damian said feeling small, "I knew what was happening. I was going to let you go."

"Without saying anything?"

"I don't want what happened between Father and you to happen to us either. You're worried that you would become him? You're wrong. It would be me. You would want to go and have independence again and I would cling to you like he did which would start a fight. If I let you go amicably maybe you would come back sooner."

Suddenly long arms were wrapped around him and he didn't push them away. "Don't be so soppy," He grumbled, but felt lighter, more secure.

"I'm sorry," Grayson repeated.

"I'm sorry as well," Damian sighed and he allowed himself to lean in to the hug, "I should have said something."

"We should have talked," Grayson pulled back knowing Damian had little tolerance for physical affection. "You're right. We need to discuss our partnership and I should have broached the subject as soon as I took off the cowl."

"Yes," Damian agreed, "You should have."

Grayson ran his fingers through his hair. "You don't want to talk about Damon right now do you?"

"Can we just spar?" Damian asked. He felt like he had reached his emotional quota for the three years. The fact that they got through that entire conversation was a small miracle.

Dick nodded easily looking relieved, "Sure."

* * *

The resolution in the end was simple, but involved a great amount of chance. It all depended on Richard, it all depended on the goodness of Batman's first protégé.

Damon frowned, he was staring at his own reflection in the glass. He remembered Richard's vacant stare with an unpleasant pull in his stomach. He had crossed a line. He saw it in Richard's face. His plan all depended on quick responses. Any hesitation and he fails, his brother as good as wins. He looked up deliberately at the camera, "Grayson you need to come now." He picked up the abandoned plate Drake left dumped off the food and went to the sink carefully washing it off. He then smashed it against the basin. He picked up a particularly long sharp piece and held it up to the camera. He went to his bed, lying down, not rushing.

Do I really trust him to save me? His brain suddenly screamed. This was insane, he could die, he needed to find another way. He needed to—

"You need to save me."

He plunged the shard into his neck.

* * *

**Notes:**

Ahhhh exams are done! Yay. So probably more updates more frequently (huzzah). This chapter took a long time to write because I intended it to be completely different, oh well. The escape I promised last chapter will happen next chapter, so until then.


	4. Partners

**Chapter Six: Partners**

* * *

Best laid plans…

In retrospect he should have realized that it might not be Richard who responded to his call. Richard's attention wasn't completely focused on him one-hundred percent of the time.

Damon would have to work on that.

* * *

Tim walked into the monitor room. For once Damian wasn't there brooding in a perfect imitation of his father. Tim had heard Dick's laughter and Damian's sarcastic quips from the training area. He smiled to himself. As much as he disliked Damian it was good that the two were together and unified. Damian's tension and outright jealousy had been getting on his nerves. Of course Damian's weariness in this instance was appropriate. Damon was dangerous and completely zeroed in on Dick. However, Damian's anger went beyond that. He always got his nose out of joint when Dick was paying more attention to someone else. Tim was glad Dick finally realized Damian's agitation and decided to reassure the brat.

If Damian and even Dick knew his thoughts they might be surprised. It wasn't a secret Tim had been angry (and jealous) when Damian first came into the picture… when he became the Robin to Dick's Batman, but Dick was ultimately right. Tim didn't need to be anyone's junior partner anymore and Damian needed guidance. His resentment of Damian had lessened into just a plain sort of dislike. Their personalities clashed and nothing would ever change that, but Tim wasn't petty enough to wish him misery. That's what you had to do with little brothers after all, put up with them.

Damian needed Dick. Tim wasn't going to get in the way of that.

He sat on the chair watching the strange creature that had come to them. How would Bruce deal with this? It was his son, a son too damaged to ever be brought into their fold and too dangerous to let run free.

Almost like Jason.

Jason was different from Damon of course. He didn't want to rule the world, he wanted to purge it. He wanted his vengeance through violence and death, but deep down his intentions were good.

Tim could understand, probably the only one in the family that could bring himself to understand. Jason _died_. Then he came back to a world where he had been replaced. He hadn't seen Bruce and Dick's grief. He hadn't seen the close calls. Tim could understand that anger. He could even understand the killing. Bruce and Dick could never go there. Bruce's code was too deeply embedded in their hearts. They could never see killing as right, even when they wanted to. Tim wasn't hardwired like them. He saw there was a benefit, he could comprehend it. He had been on the edge enough times to weigh the pros and cons to see if he would be able to live with himself for it. He pulled back every time.

Just because he could recognize others reasoning didn't mean he agreed with it.

With Batman and Nightwing mercy was the automatic reaction. There was no choice in the matter, not really. Dick struggled at times, but in the end it was coded into him as strong as DNA. His two moments of failure: Desmond and the Joker were as far as the code ever allowed him to go. Desmond was killed by another and the Joker was resuscitated.

And Bruce… well he had his moments too.

Dick wouldn't be able to survive real blood on his hands. Neither would Bruce. Even coming close to it breaks them. They can't justify it to themselves. That's why it wasn't a choice with them. Tim still had to think about it sometimes. He had to pull himself back from the edge. He decided it made him stronger that he could question Bruce's morality. He had yet to come upon a situation where he chose killing. Batman's lessons were drilled within him as well. One day they might not be enough though. One day there might be an impossible choice and if it were Bruce, Dick and him, Tim would have to be the one that made the decision. He could weigh that choice and he would probably be able to live with it.

He would do it so that those two wouldn't have to.

He stared at the screen. Damon was looking straight at the camera as if he could see Tim on the other side.

"_Grayson, you need to come now."_

Tim frowned. Surely the boy knew they weren't allowing contact. Damian must have told him when he had his 'chat' with his younger 'brother,' when he had turned off the cameras. Damian was the type to rub things in.

The boy bent down. He picked up the plate of food Tim had left hours before. He dumped the food into the sink and started washing it. Tim watched trying to figure out what was going on. Did he want to complain about the food now?

He smashed the plate.

No… no he was too much of an egotist to actually—

Damon picked up a shard holding it to the camera. He almost seemed smug. Like he knew the viewer—the intended viewer Dick would have no choice. He would have to come to him.

It was one of those moments. Tim's brain was weighing the pros and cons even as he jumped out of the chair and ran towards the cellblock. One day he might have to make that choice, but it wasn't today.

"_You need to save me."_

* * *

It wasn't so much the pain. Damon knew how to deal with pain. It was the way his systems were failing him. His breathing, his energy, his heart were all rebelling against him as the blood quickly drained from his neck and onto the bed. He kept the shard in his neck knowing that if he removed it entirely he would bleed out. He forced his body to obey his commands. Richard would come. He would apply temporary medical assistance. Then Damon would be able to make his move.

He heard it, the glass door sliding open.

"You crazy little idiot!"

He felt his stomach drop. Drake, it was _Drake._ His mind furiously worked. Why was Drake here? What did he have to gain from saving Damon? He realized very quickly that he had made a serious error. He had forgotten that his father's children were all bound by a duty to preserve life. Perhaps the Mistake would have looked the other way, but Drake…

There are more soft hearted people than Richard on the planet after all, and Drake did have a rivalry with Damian. Perhaps he was hoping Damon might live to see Damian dead.

He felt the shard pull out and the quick medical treatment being applied to his neck. His father had trained his third soldier well. He expertly pinched the artery and sewed. The bleeding was slowing. Damon had lost a lot of blood, almost too much, but he had to go forward.

His plan had been Richard would be the one to rescue him. He would pull the hidden shard in his hand and threaten him. He would force him to take him to the medical bay for firmer treatment. The others wouldn't be able to attack with their eldest brother in danger. Then he would force Richard to take him from the cave. Richard's better nature would prevail and his need to preserve life would make him easy to manipulate.

It wouldn't work with Timothy Drake. Drake was an unknown. Richard might have played along hoping to stop their conflict with words which would buy Damon enough time to recover and drug the young man to make him more pliant. Drake was too much of a liability.

He would have to do this the hard way.

"Thanksss," He hissed with an awful smirk. Drake didn't have time to pull back. Damon plunged the shard into his rescuer's neck. They would have matching scars if Drake survived. With all the energy he had he rolled out from under Drake's body and quickly wrapped a bandage around his neck. Drake was trying to grab him, go after him. Damon cursed. His aim had been off, he hadn't hit an artery, but Drake wasn't breathing too well. He grabbed adrenaline from the medical kit dosing himself.

He ran through the door. No alarms were going off. His brother and Richard must be occupied. Drake must have been moving too fast to set one off. He had to hurry. His injury wouldn't let him move around for long and there were threats everywhere. He was in the cave so at least he had that. He went down a memorised corridor and heard laughter.

_I need to go!_

His breathing became erratic.

_Focus!_

He slowed his breathing. He needed to get out now, but he felt himself going in the direction of the training area anyway.

He looked down. The Mistake and Richard.

Richard had his brother in a headlock laughing his head off as the Mistake attempted to escape, spitting out curses and insults.

But he was smiling.

He felt his heart twist. He gasped clutching his chest.

Of course they would hear him. Of course they would look up.

"He's escaped!" The Mistake yelled. Both of them took ready positions.

"Don't move," Damon rasped. He held his throat. "You can go after me or you can save Drake."

Richard's eyes narrowed and his brother's anger was obvious.

"Two of us and one of him," Richard said shortly. The kindness and easy going nature were replaced by cold determination. This was the young man that had enough willpower to be Batman without getting swept away by its weight. Damon felt chilled, but his survival instincts kicked in. He was too weak to fight.

"Save Drake, your medical experience surpasses mine," Damian said.

Richard wasn't torn. A look passed between the two down below. A quick communication between the former Batman and Robin. Trust.

It was maddening.

Then Richard was in the air grabbing on to the railing. The Mistake was right behind him. Richard caught Damian's arm tossing him into the air. Damon cursed he made a grab for the weapons laid out nearby. Then he stuck another needle of adrenalin into himself. Richard was over the rail and running towards the cells with no hesitation. He didn't even glance at Damon.

It wasn't acceptable!

The Mistake landed in front of him.

"I'm going to cripple you." Damian hissed.

His heart hammered and he sped off. He needed to keep ahead, gain an advantage, any advantage.

His reflexes kicked in and he ducked barely dodging a flying kick from his older brother.

"You made a big mistake little monster," Damian grinned an evil glint in his eye. "I was hoping I would get the chance to put you in your place before I lock you up forever."

Damon gritted his teeth. So the true face of Damian Wayne was revealed. Now that he had his target in sight he couldn't help but show his murderous side. If only Richard could see him.

"I don't expect much from a failure," Damon rasped. He scanned his elder brother. No weapons. He was unarmed. Damon had… a smoke bomb. Damn Batman and his non-lethal weapons!

One chance then.

He threw it down. It flashed. Damian gave a growl of anger. Damon didn't stop to try and press his advantage. He was too weak to fight his brother one on one.

He came to the main caverns. He wouldn't make it to the entrance without Damian catching up. He ran to a table and grabbed a grappling hook then approached the edge looking down at the river below.

"You want to take your chances fine with me," His brother yelled, "But if you survive I will find you."

"No brother, I'll find you," Damon shot the grappling hook up into the stalactites above. He turned forcing a confident smirk, "Tell Richard I look forward to our next meeting."

He swung down into the icy river.

* * *

"How's Drake?"

"Stable," Dick answered. He was finishing wrapping a bandage around his little brother's neck. Tim was lucky. Damon had missed the artery entirely, but he had done enough damage to slow Red Robin down. Dick had found him half way down the hall trailing blood. He sighed patting his brother on the head.

"You did good Timmy," Dick murmured. Tim gave an annoyed groan.

Damian stood arms crossed. He was a little bit away from the two. Most people would read hostile. Dick knew better. Damian was unsure of what to do and was settling on how he usually dealt with Tim. "He let the prisoner escape."

"So did you," Dick pointed out, not harshly, but he could see it wasn't the right thing to say as soon as it passed his lips, "So did I," he amended before the boy's hurt (which looked more like anger) became fixed. He turned back to Tim. "Alfred's on his way, he'll be able to do a better clean up than me. Can you talk?"

"Yeah," Tim said. He was obviously light headed from blood loss. "Crazy kid stabbed himself in the neck. Saved him. Stabbed me as soon as I stopped the bleeding. That's gratitude for you, huh?"

"Kids these days," Dick joked.

"Shouldn't have been so careless."

"I would have made the same mistake," Dick said squeezing his shoulder. "You're not totally to blame. I haven't taken his threat seriously enough. I was waiting for a breakout attempt, but I didn't know how far he was willing to go."

"How much he trusts you." Tim corrected, "Expected you, not me. He was certain enough you'd come to risk his life on it."

Dick frowned. He wasn't sure if it was troubling or, in its own warped way a good sign.

"He went into the river. Probably not dead," Damian said shortly.

"Yeah, our antagonists do have a tendency to know how to swim, don't they? Damian, what can we expect?"

Damian sighed. He reluctantly approached his brothers.

"It's good he was weak from blood loss otherwise you'd be a corpse by now, Drake."

Dick mentally smiled. Damian's way of saying he was glad Tim was okay. Tim seemed to realize this and didn't protest the backhanded way in which it was delivered. He was throat probably hurt too much to argue anyway.

"If it were me… which…" Damian looked away irritated, "I suppose since he's a rip off of my DNA and memories he is... I would first get medical treatment. That's a given. If he survives, which, let's face it he probably will, he'll feel more confident. He has a better idea of the way we work and which targets to hit—" Dick noticed Damian looking at him when he said it. It took most of his willpower not to roll his eyes. Damon was a threat, but seriously, Dick wasn't a damsel in distress. He put those days behind him when he hung up his short-pants. "—He won't try to hit us so directly again. He was overconfident when we met him on the rooftop. Probably thought he could take us both. He'll be more careful now. He'll evade capture. He'll resort to guerilla tactics. He won't retreat entirely. He'll stay in Gotham, but he'll hide until he is fully recovered. He has the time. By the time father returns he'll have found a hole deep enough that we won't be able to find him until he wants to be found."

Dick nodded, "You're right, he won't leave Gotham. I don't think he would even if Talia asked him. He'll go rogue from the League of Assassins. It makes him more dangerous. He's playing for keeps.

Damian looked at him questioning.

"He's starting to question how he was raised," Dick explained. "His foundations are shifting. He's finding his own reasons for his goals and for living. He wants to do things on his terms because he plans to overthrow Ra's and Talia. He's finding himself."

"Is that good?" Tim asked.

"Questioning Talia? I wish it were, but he can only go with what he knows. Murder and domination. If I know her she puts limits and restraint on what he can do. Without any guidance he could become…"

"A monster," Damian finished. Then shook his head, "No, worse. A creature with the desires of an adult, but still a child with no impulse control who has the ability to get anything his greedy heart desires."

Damian looked at Dick again. There was a promise of protection there. This time Dick chuckled. Damian could be unbelievably sweet at times. He quickly ruffled his hair. As usual the teen attempted to whack his hand away, but it was already gone.

"You need to take this seriously!" Damian barked.

"I do," Dick said reassuringly. "Little kid or not he's dangerous and needs to be contained until we can find a better solution. I see that."

Damian absolutely glared poison at him.

"—And I promise to be careful," Dick vowed raising his hand in solemn promise. "But you got to promise me the same. You do not go after him solo. You're his main target."

The teen crossed his arms.

"If you're not careful then I don't have to be careful," Dick said. He winked at Tim. Tim rolled his eyes.

"Don't be childish!" Damian protested.

"Well?"

"-Tt- Fine, we'll stick together as we've _always_ done in the past."

Dick grinned, "Sounds like a good idea, partner."

"So what do we do?" Tim asked.

"We know more about him," Dick said. "We'll be ready. We need to keep our advantages and have our allies keep an eye out. He's alone in an unfamiliar city. He won't have resources or help. Especially if he's cut ties with Talia. We wait for him to make a desperate move. He doesn't have many cards left to play."

* * *

Damon spat up water. He had barely made it out of the polluted river alive. He knelt down hands and knees on the bank trying to catch his breath. He was processing everything that had happened over the last week.

The cold look on Richard's face when he announced Drake was in danger kept coming to the forefront of his mind. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't push it away. Coldness, anger and… disappointment.

He would _not_ feel guilty for this!

He felt a presence stand over him. He looked up.

"Hey kid. Thought you were a goner."

His face was covered, but Damon could _hear_ the smug smirk.

"I told you there was more to them than spiffy costumes."

"Yes you did," Damian growled. He coughed up more polluted water. His neck wound blazed. "But getting captured taught me many things."

The man towering above him offered a hand, Damon took it.

"Oh?"

"Batman's not a suitable target."

"That's disappointing for me."

"Bruce Wayne isn't my brother's weakness."

"Oh, I think I know where this is going."

"Richard Grayson."

"The boy has taste. So, what's your plan, partner?"

"Get Richard."

"Been awhile since I've seen big brother. Sounds like a blast."

"-Tt-"

Red Hood tilted his head looking down at Damon with an air of malicious glee, "You ready?"

* * *

**Notes:**

The man that many of you have been waiting for Jason Todd! (applause)

Ahh how embarrassing the ending was cut off, it's fixed now!


	5. Tempest

**Chapter Seven: Tempest**

* * *

Unsurprisingly Father was pissed.

Damian watched from the shadows as Batman berated Grayson for allowing Damon al Ghul to escape. Drake was convalescing under Pennyworth's care in the medical wing and Damian was shoved out of the line of fire as soon as Grayson heard the roar of the Batplane.

"How could you all have been so irresponsible? You _knew_ who he was. You _knew_ what he was capable of. Tim should have—"

"What was he supposed to do? Let him die?"

"And where were you at the time?"

"I'm not saying we didn't make mistakes Bruce! This whole situation—"

"I thought I could trust you with this."

"Don't give me that!" Dick exploded. They had been talking in furious hushed tones, but Bruce Wayne was one of the few people that could make Dick Grayson's patience boil over. "You know you can trust us. You also know that there are situations that can't be avoided! Every second counted. If Tim had hesitated for a _moment_ Damon would have bled out. He didn't have time to sound the alarm or find me. He made a choice and it was the right one Bruce and you _know_ that!"

His father glared hard at Grayson, but Grayson had been raised under that glare. He was immune and had developed his own.

"Bruce, this wouldn't have happened if you were here—"

"You're right, it wouldn't—"

"Not because you would have seen it coming!" Grayson cut him off furiously. "And not because you would have been able to block the attack. Have you thought maybe, just maybe, if you had stayed and spoke with your _son_. That if you showed interest in him and maybe talked to him about the awful situation we're all in that maybe he wouldn't have been on the attack against us in the first place."

Batman was ridged. His voice went deadly soft again. Damian leaned down from his position among the stalactites. "You can't be naïve enough to believe that."

Grayson was pacing furiously, he had to move. It was the opposite of Bruce Wayne's stiff stance. He was all energy burning brightly in the darkness bellow. He suddenly stopped and turned to face Batman.

"Do you think he's beyond the point of no return?" He burst, "Do you think he's a monster as well? He's your _son_. Are you disappointed that he didn't bleed out and solve our problem for us, is that it? Another dead child who didn't meet expectations?"

The backhanded slap rang out through the cave. Grayson was on the ground and Damian was moving without thinking. He was on his father in a second.

"How dare you lay a hand on him!" He screamed.

"Damian!" Grayson was up and grabbed Damian's hood pulling him back. He wrapped his arms around him to hold him still.

"I went too far," He said. Damian fidgeted in his grip. His father's stony gaze was fixed on the two of them.

"It's no excuse—!" Damian struggled.

"I knew it was coming, I went too far," Grayson repeated. He slowly put Damian down. Damian stared angrily at his father. As his rage cooled he noticed the black circles under Batman's eyes. The unshaved stubble. The haunted look. He was mentally, emotionally and physically exhausted and Grayson had pushed him exactly the right way. Damian glanced up at Grayson's shadowy face. There was the smallest hint of compassion in his steady sky blue eyes. It had been on purpose. He had wanted Father to hit him so that Batman would… wake up.

His father didn't say 'I'm sorry.' Grayson wasn't expecting an apology. He carefully approached Batman.

"We needed you too," Grayson continued intently. "You're not the only one this is affecting." Damian noticed a quick glance in his direction. He forced himself not to be annoyed. "This is hard, but we all need to be on the same page. What are we going to do, Bruce?"

His father met Grayson's eyes. They seemed to silently communicate in a way that Damian envied. His father and he would never have that level of unspoken trust—

Grayson looked down, his own emotions were clouding his gaze, but Damian still understood. He looked once again at Grayson's red cheek, back to his eyes and nodded silently. He slunk into the shadows. Grayson needed time with his father. Other than Pennyworth, Dick Grayson was the only one with a chance of getting through to Bruce Wayne.

Damian hadn't expected Batman to be so effected by Damon. He hadn't been when Damian first arrived. Shocked? Yes. Emotional? Marginally, but not so... hopeless.

But Damian realized he had been different from Damon al Ghul. His father had… seen the good in him. He was abruptly struck with uncertain virulent joy. His father had seen the good in _him_.

* * *

"Were you disappointed?"

Damon decided early on in their partnership that the Red Hood was an uncouth thug. Jason Todd lounged with a rude intent and asked questioned that didn't need to be asked. He made comments filled with innuendo and violence. A perfect Caliban to Damon's Prospero. Although he resembled a handsome man, Jason was scarred and ugly inside. A listless bully on his own, but useful with the proper master. Jason thought they were equals. Damon was willing to let him think that for now.

"Disappointed about what?" Damon asked, his tone bored and disinterested. They were in Jason's safe house. His neck had been properly wrapped and medicine had been acquired. He was under a fog of illness, but refused to let his servant see how affected he was.

"That it was the Replacement and not Dickie-bird that saved your life."

He had told Jason the story. His imprisonment and their enemies' movements. His escape. He even told Jason about Richard Grayson, Damon's Miranda. Compassionate, beautiful and brave. He left out his own feelings towards him of course. Only the weaknesses and opportunities Richard provided against both his father and brother.

"It didn't matter who fixed my neck as long as someone did," Damon replied. He closed his eyes thinking of Richard. The sweet thought of victory. The beautiful man his. Maybe the acrobat would actually be his Ariel. Airy clever Ariel, begging for freedom, always yearning for the wind and the sky.

"But you wanted it to be _him_," Caliban—Jason pressed. The drugs muddled his mind. He forced himself to focus. He opened his eyes. Jason was perched on the back of the armchair like a demon hunched over a corpse. Damon felt momentarily repulsed by Jason's knowing grin.

"Why do you think that?" Damon kept a level tone. He didn't let his annoyance show. If he did it would only confirm Jason's assumption.

Jason let himself slide into the chair. He gazed at Damon in dark amusement.

"You have the same look everyone gets when they talk about our brother."

"We're not related," Damon said flatly.

"Dick's as good as blood to Bruce and as close to a brother as it gets with me. You shouldn't be so mean to family, little brother."

Damon mentally groaned. Another new nickname. He didn't bother protesting it; it would only fuel Jason more.

"He was the only one that saw you as human and you couldn't help but realize how _pleasant_ love and care are. When he didn't come running it must have hurt. I can relate," Jason laughed. "Well, with the last part. Dick was never that nice with me, but I didn't want him to be nice."

Unhidden lust. Caliban hungers for Miranda. Prospero rolls with displeasure. Miranda belongs to him.

"Richard is a tool to get at my brother, nothing more," Damon explained patiently.

"Maybe to you," Jason smirked. He rolled off the chair and stood up. The room was clean and tidy, almost military in its order. It didn't suit Jason's careless personality. The young man approached him like a stalking cat. "But it's more than just revenge with me and the Bat-Family. As much as I like fucking with them and seeing them suffer I still have a … claim on them. Especially Bats and Dickie."

"Are you saying 'you saw them first,' is this a warning?" Damon raised an eyebrow unconcernedly. Jason was now at the couch leaning on the arm behind Damon's head. It might have been alarming, but Damon was used to this sort of behaviour by now.

"Do what you want with the brat, I don't really care."

"And I'm not interested in Batman."

"So then the only person we need to discuss is…"

Damon rolled his eyes, but inwardly clenched his teeth. He didn't want to admit Richard was more than just a pawn, but Jason putting a claim on the acrobat was unacceptable. He forced himself to think reasonably.

"You can have him after I'm done. He's only bait." The lie was easy enough. He would kill the thug once he had no more need of him.

"Cool," Jason straightened and moved away from his threatening position above his head. "The lure of big brother is versatile. You get Bat-Brat and I'll get Bat-Dad. Then with Bluebird…" He didn't finish his sentence only gave a salacious grin.

"Yes, fine," Damon let his irritation show now. It was a tiresome conversation. "But we don't have them yet. I rely on your expertise of Gotham and the movements of Batman's soldiers. You've yet to give me any useful data."

Jason was at the counter of the kitchen area. He poured himself a glass of water, gulped it down and wiped his face with his sleeve. He glanced at Damon with little concern.

"Well I'll get right on that when you get right on planning. That's your gig. All you've done for the past two days is lie on the couch with a dreamy expression and read Shakespeare." He picked up _The Tempest_ which was lying on the counter and started flipping through it. "You don't need to worry about what I bring to the party…

_I'll show thee the best springs; I'll pluck thee berries;  
I'll fish for thee and get thee wood enough.  
A plague upon the tyrant that I serve(d)!  
I'll bear him no more sticks, but follow thee,  
Thou wondrous man._"

Jason laughed mockingly and slammed the book shut. Unlikely that he found that randomly, perhaps the thug was more cultured than he let on, perhaps smarter too.

* * *

"Father?"

Batman was alone now. Damian heard the angry growl of Nightwing's motorcycle. He knew Grayson would be hurt, but he hoped his Father had sent him away. Away to Metropolis or Star City or Central or the Watchtower. On any mission or place outside of Gotham and away from the creature that hunted them.

"Dick was right, I shouldn't have just left you." Batman was at the hub staring at all the security cameras he was plugged into. Looking for signs. Probably for Damon, but maybe just for a crime to stop. For an excuse to go be Batman and not be Bruce Wayne.

His father and he had never been good together. They were too alike and too set in their own ways. They _had_ bonded. They _did_ love each other, but it was easier for both of them to ignore feelings. As father and son it was blooming into a fairly decent relationship. As Batman and Robin… they still weren't Batman and Robin. Bruce Wayne was Batman, Damian Wayne was Robin. There was no 'and' to connect them yet.

Or rather Grayson was their 'and,' and he would be gone one day.

"Grayson thinks I'm more affected by all this than I actually am." He stood behind his father, his eyes flickering across the screens.

He pointed toward the top left image. "There."

They moved in unison toward the Batmobile. Damian was looking for an excuse to be Robin too. He jumped in his seat and looked over. He still expected to see a smaller grinning Batman rather than the grim one now at his side. He felt the pull of adrenaline as the car sped away out through the darkness of the caves.

"You saw the tapes?" He asked.

His father grunted an affirmative.

"Did you send Nightwing away?"

"Yes."

Damian—no, Robin felt relief flood through him. "Will he stay away?"

"…I promised him I'd look after you."

It was an odd thing for a father to say, but Damian understood. Damian was more of Grayson's child now than he was Bruce Wayne's.

He remembered Grayson's words about staying together, being partners, using their allies to find Damon. He had the creeping feeling his father would do the opposite. The hunt for Damon al Ghul would be Batman's alone. He would take all of it on himself because he saw Damon as his mistake.

Damian didn't like that. The idea that they were all just Batman's mistakes. Resentful Dick, Crippled Barbara, Dead Jason, Orphaned Tim, Missing Cassandra, Abandoned Stephanie, Angry Damian, Monstrous Damon, all just mistakes he had to rectify. His father forgot the good he did for his children and that those children made their own decisions. He forgot Loyal Nightwing. He looked passed Oracle's accomplishments. He refused to see Red Hood's choices and acknowledge Red Robin's new family. That Batgirl found acceptance and Black Bat had enough confidence to start finding herself.

And that Robin wasn't angry anymore.

It never took long for the Batmobile to reach its destination. Fifteen minutes as they went over what they knew from what they could pick up on the tape. A robbery. Armed thugs. Easy, simple. They worked best when they didn't have to talk much. When it was straightforward and there was no moral ambiguity.

Batman and Robin beat the thugs, returned the stolen merchandise, called the police. It was that simple.

But many of the thugs sustained more serious injuries than they might have on a usual night and Batman wanted more and Robin wanted more.

They continued through the city, leaping from building to building.

"He said you were worried about him leaving."

It had been hours, but his father easily picked up the thread of their conversation. Damian flipped over a wall and kept speeding forward.

"We're a good team and you're splitting us up," Robin replied. The wind caught his hood so it fell back whipping behind him. This was good. This was better.

"But you wanted him to go."

"Yes, in this case, but I want him to come back."

Batman opened his cape and glided to the next building. Robin used a grappling hook to follow.

"You can't stay with him forever."

"I just want time."

The awful smell of the docks hit him like an old enemy, but it was still good. It was still Robin and not Damian.

"I can give you time."

"What about the child?"

"Your brother?"

"…Damon, yes."

"You want time for him too?"

"I want to know if you have a plan. If your searches found anything. If you spoke with my—"

"I didn't find her. She didn't want to be found."

* * *

Apparently, the best thing about Gotham city was that it was always on disaster's front door. It had been a week and Damon had regained his strength. They were now setting up plans and contingencies.

"Bluebird has flown the coop."

Damon stiffened, "What?" He tried not to let his anger show.

"Probably got in a fight with Daddy-Bats, happens all the time," Jason said uncaringly.

They sat over maps and tablets. Schedules and habits. Damon forced himself not to spill all the papers and computers to the ground.

"He was an integral part of our plan!"

"He still is," Jason rolled his eyes like Damon was being over dramatic. "Listen little Bat, the best thing about Gotham city is that it's always in trouble. It always needs saving. Gotham is the hot damsel in distress waiting for her hero to save her, but sometimes…" He clicked a link on one of the tablets. It was a news program showing a giant… mutant… space thing… which had apparently appeared in Africa. The Justice League was there, fighting it. "Sometimes Gotham's hero can't come to the phone, so luckily he has his squires." Jason clicked another link. This time it was a website: . At the top of the page was a picture of a grinning Nightwing in midflight. From the angle the viewer could just make out Two-Face's men below. Damon's eyes scanned through the comments:

_Knightwing38: Nightwing's back! Whoo! (17 minutes ago)_

_Myloveisbatty: Where's he been? (16 minutes ago)_

_Nite_wings_butt: Aw, why not an ass shot? (12 minutes ago) _

_Nightwingandrobin: Robin's not with him, think they're fighting? D: (11 minutes ago)_

_Batman_nananananananana: 3 Nightwing! (10 minutes ago) _

_Knightwing38: No sightings for two weeks. Maybe he was on a mission? (5 minutes ago)_

_**This comment was flagged as spam**__ (5 minutes ago) _

_RedRobinlover18: But Red Robin's STILL not back! Q.Q (4 minutes ago)_

_Myloveisbatty: Maybe he's back because of the shit that's going on in Africa #jlavsmotw (2 minutes ago)_

"What is this?" Damon scrolled through the site. It had pictures of varying quality of Batman and at times his other disciples and allies.

"The fans," Jason said in amusement. "They see Batman out their window and they snap a picture with their phone. Bruce takes the sites down, but they keep popping back up and mirroring. I think he gets Alfred to moderate some of the popular ones now just so they don't make trouble for him."

"How does this help us?" Damon frowned. Jason grinned. He moved away from the table and pulled on his leather jacket.

"Big brother's in town to lend a helping hand, the birds are stretched thin without the Replacement and had to split up, and best of all Daddy isn't home. Time to catch a pretty bird."

* * *

The worst thing about Gotham was there was never a quiet night. Every time a JLA mission gets broadcasted Gotham goes crazy. All the criminals and lunatics know the Bat isn't in town and decide to thrown themselves a good old fashion crime spree. As soon as he saw the reports of the giant white hole over Africa Dick was on his bike riding towards Gotham. Fifteen minutes in Oracle called. Robin was alone. Red Robin wasn't ready to go yet, the Birds of Prey had their own stuff going on, Catwoman wasn't speaking to the Bats at the moment (thanks Bruce), Huntress was doing her lone wolf thing and Batgirl broke her arm last week.

"I'm already on my way, O. How're you holding up R?"

There was grunts and static, then: _"I could use a hand if you're not doing anything."_

Dick smiled to himself speeding up, "Nah, I don't have any plans. I'm half an hour away."

_"Go to Midtown. Two-Face's goons are robbing the Double Diamond Jewellers. I need to deal with Penguin and his stupid bird fetish." _

"Roger that."

It hadn't taken too long to get to the Double Diamond and take out the thugs, but as soon as he slapped cuffs on he got another call to take care of a Riddler caper. Dick smiled with the slightest bit of wickedness. Riddler had hated him since he was a kid, it was _always_ fun to grind his gears.

He approached the deli with caution. Just because the Riddler was fun to play with didn't mean he wasn't dangerous. As Oracle described there was a spray painted green question mark on the front doors. He looked around. No one on the street. Gothamites knew better when Batman wasn't in town to tempt fate on green question marks.

"You sure this is the Riddler?" He had looked around the place and had yet to find an obnoxious rhyme or puzzle. "This seems kind of sloppy for him… and not much of a riddle…" He felt on edge. The whole thing stunk. He pulled out his eskrima sticks. He hadn't forgotten Damon Wayne and his dark promises, but the boy couldn't have set something like this up so fast. Nightwing had only been in town two hours. It wasn't adding up.

He turned on a dime shoving his weapon against the gun that was pointed at him. Red Hood laughed gleefully and jumped back.

"Riddle me this, Bluebird. What looks like a—"

"Let me stop you right there," Dick pushed forward knocking the gun out of Red Hood's hand. "The answer's a trap. Obviously."

Red Hood grabbed him by the wrist pulling him forward. He ensnared him, one hand on his hip while the other wrapped around his neck. "Do you have to be such a kill joy?" He knew Jason's eyes rolled behind his helmet. Dick twisted, pulled loose and flipped over to his other side.

"You know I'm the only one allowed to make bad jokes, Little Wing," Dick teased.

Dick felt a small prick through his uniform. He looked down, a dart sticking out of his leg. His head swam. He pulled it out. Usually he carried immunities to most of the stuff on the market, but this was different and it was too late for anti-toxin.

"Yeah, well guess what?"

He took a stumbling step away. "What's going… why are you—Jay…?"

He tumbled forward gracelessly. Jason caught him easily, pressing a kiss on the top of his head. "Joke's on you, Bluebird."

* * *

Notes: The lines that Jason were reading are from _The Tempest_ spoken by Caliban.


	6. Never Say You're Sorry

Damon watched as Jason gently leaned Richard against the glass window of the Deli. He pulled something off him and held it up. Damon approached. The dart had done its job, Richard was blissfully unaware.

"Communicator," Jason tossed the small earpiece to Damon. Damon caught it and smirked. Good. He put it on.

_"Hey Guy Wonder you've been awfully quiet, did you find anything or was it a bust?_

"Oracle, is it?"

_"…!? Who is this!?"_

"Tell my brother I have him."

_"What do you mean 'you have him.' Who are y—"_

Damon dropped the communicator grinding it under his heel. Jason held Richard bridal style, the acrobat's head lolled to the side.

"Mission complete," Jason said airily.

* * *

Damian's heart stopped.

No. No, no, no. Grayson was better than that, he wouldn't let Damon just get the drop on him, he—

_"He used Nightwing's line, I think he—"_

"Where were they?" Damian interrupted.

The deli wasn't hard to find. A garish green question mark was spray painted on the doors. Hanging from the handle was Grayson's domino mask and a piece of paper.

Just one word scrawled across it:

**MINE**

Damian crumpled the note.

* * *

The empty warehouse would serve their purposes well. Richard was tied up. Red Hood left to go set the trap. He had to lure his brother here. That was the point after all.

He gazed at Richard's sleeping face. Damian Wayne was almost secondary now. Damon had what he really wanted… mostly, but to make Richard his he needed to kill his brother. He needed to severe the hold Damian had on Richard Grayson. With the mistake's death he would get everything he desired. Then the real work could begin.

Richard moaned, slowly opening his eyes. He was disoriented, confused. He focused on Damon.

"Damian?"

He scowled, "No, I'm afraid not, Richard."

Rather than react in fear or anger Richard groaned, closed his eyes and slumped back in the chair he was tied to.

"Damon."

"That's right." Damian frowned at the reaction. He wanted Richard attentive. On him, on the situation.

"Wait—where's Jaso—" Damon crawled up on his lap straddling him. Richard's eyes opened in a flash. That got his attention. Damon grinned slowly. He put his hands on his captive's shoulders. Richard's face was grave.

"Don't—"

"Todd's busy at the moment. He's setting the pieces up. The crumbs for our brother to follow." Damon leaned forward, "Him and I have unfinished business to take care of before we can go, my dear."

"Go where?" Richard challenged.

Damon followed the line of Richard's eyebrow. He wanted to remember every detail. Richard was angry, but that would be stomped out in time.

"Home," Damon answered simply. He was about to touch his captive's lips, but had to pull back at the last second so that Richard wouldn't bite him. He pouted slightly.

"I have the feeling you're not talking about Wayne Manor."

"Of course not," Damon said with some disgust. "We'll go back to Mother. I can start training you while I set up the pieces for Mother's and Grandfather's downfall."

"I'll have to decline, thanks."

Damon chuckled, "You don't have any choice in the matter, Richard. I get what I want and I want you. Don't worry; you'll be happy, eventually. I'll make sure of that."

He leaned forward putting his chin on Richard's shoulder wrapping his arms around his neck. He was about to close his eyes, and imagine his garden when he noticed the ropes being slowly unknotted. He expected as much, but not so quickly. The drug was working out of his system faster than he had anticipated. He slipped off Richard and retightened his bonds.

"None of that," He chided.

"Damon, I don't know how to make this any clearer. You need to stop this." Damon walked to the table and prepared the needle. He had mixed this especially. It would be stronger than the knockout dart. Damon approached him again.

"Hush." Richard leaned away when he saw the needle. His efforts had redoubled on the ropes.

"It won't hurt," Damon promised. "But I can't have you escaping." He pulled himself up onto Richard's thighs again. Richard attempted to headbutt him. Damon moved his head and plunged the needle into Richard's neck.

"Gah!"

"It's alright," Damon said soothingly petting Richard's hair as tried to fight against the drug's effects. The drug was fast acting and soon Richard was still. His glazed blue eyes stared blankly ahead.

Damon smirked softly to himself pushing Richard's dark hair out of his face.

"I told you I would have you," he whispered into his prisoner's ear. Richard couldn't move. The drug took away control over body movement, but kept him aware. Damon carefully squeezed drops into Richard's eyes so they wouldn't dry.

"There, that feels better, doesn't it?" Damon pressed his hand against Richard's cheek. "Don't worry, it isn't permanent. I just need you obedient while I take care of my business." He sighed in satisfaction studying Richard's vacant expression. "Ah, Richard." He stroked the acrobat's black hair, "I'll take pleasure in having you with me. During my time in Father's house, you treated me quite kindly." He laughed hugging him again, "I'm afraid I shall not be so kind, after all I've made a promise to you. I'm going to break you, Richard, and I'm going to make you mine and keep you with me forever. Aren't you glad? That I want something other than the world?"

His hands trailed across the blue 'V' of his captive's uniform.

"It's strange having you silent. You're always so chatty." He leaned in tentatively, focused on Richard's lips.

"Whoa, is that what you like?"

Damon jolted, startled by the loud buffoon. Jason entered. He was grinning an unnerving grin at the scene before him. He placed his helmet on the table and looked at the compromising situation he found Damon in. Damon quickly slid off Richard's lap. He crossed his arms angrily. Jason snuck up on purpose.  
Richard's docile state caught Jason's attention . Damon's hackles rose. The vigilante got a wolfish. He moved forward, grabbing Richard by the chin, inspecting him.

"Is he aware? He looks like a doll," Jason murmured tilting Richard's head to one side then the other. Richard's empty eyes just stared ahead.

"Completely," Damon answered keeping his eyes on Jason. His nails dug into his palms. He needed to show restraint.

"Good."

Jason tipped Richard's head up and started kissing him.

"What are you doing!?" Damon yelled. Jason moaned continuing with the obscene kiss against unresponsive lips. After too long Jason drew back patting Richard on the cheek before pulling away.

"I don't suppose you plan to give him to me after all, do you?"

"No," Damon said icily. There was no point in lying now.

"Typical. Even the little psychopath falls in love with Bluebird." Todd rolled his eyes, "How do you do it Dickie-bird? Hm?" he slid his hand across Dick's shoulder circling him. "Next time we fuck I'm gonna punish you for making me feel so competitive."

Damon tensed, "What?"

Jason chuckled. His fingers slid through Richard's hair. He pulled his head back and kissed his forehead.

"Me and Dick have a surprising relationship. What? Didn't I mention it?"

"But you're—" Damon began.

"I'm Jason Todd," Jason pulled his gun just as Damon went for his knife.

"Drop it."

Damon gritted his teeth. He wouldn't be able to move fast enough. He let the knife fall to the ground and raised his hands. Jason laughed at him.

"What? You thought your big scheme was going to be successful? Sorry little guy I didn't expect much from you. I'm here to fuck with Bruce and play with Dickie. You want to break him?" he leered at Richard. "You won't have enough time before Bruce comes in bat-a-rang blazing cause Bats is, where? Africa right now? As soon as he hears Bluebird's in trouble he'll come running," Todd leaned in close to Richard's face looking cruel. He cupped Richard's cheek, "Because this one is his favourite, aren't you lover?"

"You bastard."

"I always like playing with big brother. When he sings for me? It's really sweet. I don't feel like sharing him with some brat."

Jason closed in on Damon. Damon narrowed his eyes.

"Turn around."

"I'm going to kill you," Damon promised.

"For now, why don't you take a nap?"

The butt of the gun came down hard knocking Damon out.

* * *

Damian found the bread crumbs easily enough. He scowled. He made it insultingly easy, but that was the point, wasn't it? Damon al Ghul had little impulse control when it all came down to it. He would want to meet Damian head on in battle as quickly as possible. The odds would be stacked in his favour.  
He crossed his arms staring at the abandoned warehouse. It was too easy though. Surely Damon wouldn't make the trap so obvious…

* * *

Damon was tied to a chair positioned opposite to Richard.

"Morning sunshine," Jason sung walking between the two surveying his work.

"What do you think you're doing?" Damon hissed.

"My job," Jason said smugly, "How you doing, Dickie? Drug out of your system yet?"

"Little numb," Richard answered slowly, "What's going on, Jason? What are you doing?"

"What? You're surprised with this sudden turn of events?" Jason asked, "You don't think much of me do you Dickie-bird?"

"Well… I tend to go by experience."

"Oh bitch, bitch, bitch."

"I don't understand," Richard said. The drug was slow in working out of his system and he had some trouble speaking quickly. "Why are you—?"

Jason was obviously amused. He circled around to Damon.

"You know I always have my ear to the ground Bluebird. When I heard there was another little Al Ghul running around I got curious." Jason viciously pinched Damon's cheek.

"I'll break every one of your fingers!" Damon snarled. Jason patted his cheek, two sharp little slaps.

"So I contacted the new and improved Bat-Brat. Told him my sob story. Told him how I also have a grudge against the Bat-Fam. We hit it off right away, didn't we kid?"

"I will boil the flesh off your bones."

Jason laughed hard, "You can see that we bonded." Jason approached Richard. Damon tensed.

"I wanted to get a feel for this kid." Damon couldn't see Jason's face. He was facing Richard. Richard looked worried.

"Jason."

"Let me explain it this way."

"Jason don't—" Jason pulled taped Richard's mouth. He wrapped his arms around Dick's shoulders leaning forward grinning at Damon.

"It's an old hypothetical. Let's say you go back in time and you meet ten-year-old Hitler. You know he's Hitler and you know what he's going to do and you happen to have a gun with you. Would you kill him? Keep in mind if you kill him it does not affect the future in a negative way. You kill a mass murderer and you save millions of lives. Hurray."

"Mhmm!" Richard seemed to know what Jason was getting at and was struggling against his ropes.

"No, no Dickie, I already know your answer." Todd pulled up placing his chin on top of Richard's head. "Dickie-bird here would probably adopt little Hitler and train him in the way of the Bat turning li'l Hitler to a nice guy. Adolf "Robin" Hitler. Quite the turn of events. But we know better, don't we?"

"You would obviously kill him," Damon answered with narrowed eyes.  
Jason nodded.

"Yeah, ten-year-old or not he's going to bring about the death of a lot of people. Me? I'm the killing Hitler sorta guy."

He straighten, raised his gun level and fired.

Damon screamed as the bullet hit his shoulder. Richard's yell was muffled by the gag.

"You know…" Jason continued running a hand over the gun, "Even li'l Hitler didn't kill at his age, but you? On the grapevine I hear that you've already killed quite a few people and now you're planning some fratricide. I really will be doing the world a favour stopping another little Al Ghul from running around."

"MAFFOM!" Richard gave a muffled shout struggling even more.

Jason leaned down again and pulled off the tape.

"What are you doing? He's a little kid!" Richard yelled.

"A little kid that's been going around killing people. A lot of people seem to forget this, but I don't like slayers of the innocent. Just because I have a beef with Bats doesn't mean I'm going to let this little freak play with you. I kill bad people and this kid is bad." He nuzzled Richard's cheek, "My morality is exactly like his, black and white. He's bad, he'll kill again so he's dead. He's barely human anyway." Jason raised his gun again this time aiming for Damon's heart.

It was the first time he felt real fear. Jason Todd confirmed his morality, was doing the right thing according to the laws that Damon followed, and yet he wanted to struggle against this fate. He didn't want to die like this. _He didn't want to die!_

Not when he had finally grasped happiness.

"Jason don't, please don't. He's a child you're not telling me you can kill a child."

"Age, gender, race, rich or poor a murderer is a murderer and this kid isn't even getting started."

"He didn't have a chance Jason."

"Boo hoo, like I haven't heard that before. I didn't have a chance either, remember?"

"But you still consider yourself good, don't you?"

Jason paused. Richard couldn't see his wicked grin. He wrapped one arm around Richard's neck.

"That's a complicated question now Dickie. I may see the world in black and white, but I myself am a rainbow of colour. Am I a hero? Am I a villain? You could debate it either way. I suppose the term is an anti-hero. I take care of business in a non-heroic way using the villains own methods against them for the best results."

"Cut the bullshit Jason. You can act like a tough guy all you want. You can rage against Bruce and argue against his ideologies, but I know you think that what you do isn't evil. You kill people who you believe deserve it. Monsters."

"That's right," Jason rolled his eyes towards Damon who had gotten a hold of himself and the pain and was now staring at Jason waiting for the other shoe to drop, "And guess what this kid is?"  
"Jason even if he were tried as an adult in a swinging state he would get life in prison. No one would give a child the death penalty."

"You do remember that Vigilante means you never have to say you're sorry? You can argue all you want. Doesn't change the fact that this boy'll go from murder, to mass murder to genocide. How can you guarantee otherwise? Seems to me you had a good long time to romance him into the good guys corner and you failed. I waited. I gave you a chance, didn't I? I figured if anyone could do it, it would be you. All you managed to do was turn him on." He squeezed Richard's shoulder, "I know you've never been able to get past Bruce's brainwashing, but in these situations when you have a monster like the Joker or Ra's Al Ghul, someone who you will never be able to reason with. Someone who will never learn from or feel guilt for their crimes. People like that need to be put down. I know it hurts, I know you'll probably never forgive me for doing this, but Dick I'm doing it for people like you. I'm doing it so you don't have to get your hands dirty." He kissed the top of Richard's head a sly smile on his face, "I like it better that way. I'll miss the angry sex though."

"He's Bruce's son!"

"Doesn't matter. Bruce needs to stop breeding monsters with Talia Al Ghul." Jason kissed his cheek, "Sorry Dickie. Just close your eyes." With his free hand he covered Richard's eyes. He pointed the gun at Damon.

"No, no, no!" Damon shouted struggling harder against his bonds ignoring his wounds.

"Jason please! Jason don't do this! He's only a child!"

"Sorry, the brat needs to be put down."

"I completely agree."

Damon looked up. In the rafters, there he was.

Damian.

* * *

Notes: So this is like... the first chapter I wrote for this story. It took me eight chapters to get here ahhh, yay!


	7. Shield

Damian watched the whole thing. He ground his teeth at Todd's free touches. He felt a ripple of glee at the bullet hitting the little monster. Todd was going to kill him. If he came a little too late then Todd would take care of his problem for him. He could let him shoot the monster and right after he could save Grayson bashing in Todd's face for good measure. The threat to himself and his family would be eradicated and he wouldn't have to break his father's code. He wouldn't have to kill with his own hand.

He watched, carefully keeping his eye on Todd's gun. He listened as Grayson did everything in his power to dissuade Todd from killing the little fiend. Begging for mercy for the monster that had hours ago kidnapped and drugged him. Todd had no mercy. Damian smirked hearing echoes of the monsters own argument in Todd's.

Getting a taste of his own medicine.

Then he suddenly remembered.

_Killing is easy, and sometimes it might even be right or called for, but I should never have the power to take a life because I might stand for justice, fight for justice, and defend justice, but I am not justice... I didn't stop her from killing him and I will always have to live with that. I failed. It wasn't even that I failed Batman and the code and the mission. I failed myself. I wasn't alright for a long time and it's still there. It'll always scar me._

Damian felt a sudden flash of shame for even thinking about letting Todd kill the monster. Grayson wouldn't approve and he would be… disappointed.

Damian could live with the corpses that had piled up around him, but he couldn't live with Grayson and his Father being disappointed in him. Not anymore.

He would live up to their expectations. He would do better. He would become a person who wouldn't think twice about giving mercy. They would be proud of him.

"Sorry, the brat needs to be put down." Jason held the gun directly at Damon's heart. His hand covered Grayson's eyes. A mock of tenderness.

"I completely agree."

They all looked up in the rafters. Damian let himself fall. He threw a bird-a-rang at Todd's hand. The gun fell out of his grip.

"What the fuck? I'm doing you a favour small fry!" Todd attempted to grab him, but he ducked out of the way.

"I don't require any favours from you Todd. Grayson, are you alright?"

Grayson had a big cheesy grin, a huge amount of pride shone on his face.

"You did a one-liner!" Grayson gushed. Damian rolled his eyes.

"You're a bad influence," He conceded.

"Hey now little boy don't think you've beaten me yet," Todd smirked.

"-Tt- you make it sound like you're even worth my time, Todd."

Damian and Red Hood began fighting hand to hand. Todd was bigger, more powerful, but Damian knew how to use his speed.

"You forget little man I was trained by Mommy's people too." Todd grinned grabbing him by the hood. He struggled. Damn it!

"Maybe you should have taken a page from his Dad instead." Dick. Jason turned and Grayson stuck a needle in his arms.

"Sonofabitch…" Todd groaned. He let go, trying to fight the drug's effect. He stumbled going for Grayson. Grayson punched him in the face letting him fall to the ground. He pointedly didn't try to catch him.

"Timing, I'm all about timing," Grayson grinned at Damian.

"Why didn't you slip out earlier?!" Damian demanded. He began tying their errant brother with the ropes that had held Grayson.

"I was drugged, kinda hard to slip the rope under the circumstance." Grayson approached the little monster who was silent with the arrival of Damian.

"It's a clean wound, through and through." Grayson held out his hand. Reluctantly Damian handed him gauze and a pressure bandage. He tried not to be upset at Grayson's immediate attention on Damon. He reminded himself that the little bastard had a wound, but it still annoyed him. "You're going to be fine, I promise."

"-Tt-" both Damian and the monster ticked.

He felt annoyed by the whole thing, but he leaned in to see if he could be of any help to Grayson.

"You have good timing like me," Grayson said casually as he wrapped the monster's wound tightly.

"I almost didn't make a move," Damian admitted.

"Hah, I know," Grayson gave him a kind smile that always made him feel better about complicated things, "But you stopped him anyway, not that I doubted you for a moment."

"How could you possibly know I was here?"

"Saw your shadow."

"No you didn't!"

"Totally did, but it's because I knew where to look," Grayson took a moment to pat his shoulder.

"You saved my life," The little monster said, "I don't understand… him I understand," He nodded towards Grayson, "But you, you're a killer, you're like me."

Damian rolled his eyes, "-Tt- you and I are nothing alike. I'm me and you are you, no matter what our mother has fed you. I save people, even brats such as yourself who don't know their place."

"-Tt-" the monster echoed.

"I guess this is as warm and fuzzy as it's is going to get with you two isn't it?" Grayson asked finishing the bandage on the monster.

"Just about," The monster replied, "So are you planning to lock me up again?"

"Getting locked up should be the least of your worries after what you attempted to do to Grayson!" Damian yelled. The 'warm and fuzzies' had definitely passed.

"Oh you got my note?" Damon asked casually. Damian balled his fists.

"Simmer down you two." Grayson grumbled. Damon was now staring at the man hungrily, the memory of having him in his grasp probably surfacing in his mind.

"It was too bad Todd interrupted," Damon lamented, "Although that kiss was quite… interesting. Are you a bit of a slut Grayson? He touched you so freely, like he might a whore."

"SHUT UP!" Damian yelled trying to land a punch at the tied up boy. Grayson caught by the hood.

"Rubber, glue."

Damon looked confused. He probably didn't understand the reference. Damian breathed deeply through his nose. Todd's and Grayson's 'relationship,' and he used the term very loosely, had always been a sore spot with him for numerous reasons that ranged from childish jealousy to Todd wasn't good enough to touch Grayson to Jason Todd's unbalanced personality.

"Jason and I have complicated relationship that doesn't need to be psychoanalyzed right now," Grayson said firmly. God he really hated it. That Jason was allowed to touch Grayson gently when he would try to hurt him a week previous made his hands shake.

"The fact that you have a relationship at all is a problem," Damian grumbled.

Yeah… well… we seem to enjoy it." Damian and Grayson turned. Todd. He was standing leaning heavily against the wall, the ropes were gone. There hadn't been enough drug left to keep him down. He had immunities too. He grinned at them. "I was only doing you a favour. Showing you who this kid is. Showing you he's a lost cause. Check the gun."

Damian grabbed the fallen firearm and checked the chambers.

"…No bullets?" He frowned.

"Just the one I shot in the little shit's arm."

"I knew you wouldn't kill a kid."

"Oh, yeah right, I totally had you going." Jason rolled his eyes.

"…So maybe you did," Dick's face hardened, "You haven't given me a reason to think you wouldn't."

"So you trust me with your body, but you question my morality?" Todd chuckled. Grayson flushed an angry red. That's what Todd does to him.

"Not anymore," He said with gritted teeth. Damon winced very slightly when Grayson accidently pulled the bandage too tight.

"Oh come on, Dick. You can't still think he can be fixed. People like him don't get fixed."

"Weren't you?" Grayson, Todd and Damon looked at Damian in surprise.

"What?" Todd started.

"Considering what you were before," Damian elaborated, "Considering Grayson _did_ trust you with his body? Damon Al Ghul isn't all that special."

"You know nothing about me!" Damon shouted. Damian approached.

"I know everything about you. You awoke to a world you already knew everything about and so you don't feel like you need to learn anything. You kill without mercy because you never learned the value of a human life. You're angry. So angry, and when you find people like Grayson, someone kind who has learned how to curb their own anger and show mercy appears you cling to them."

"I don't—"

"At first you wanted to please mother because she was your entire world and she would have been more careful after me. There would be less opportunity for independent thought, but you found it anyway, didn't you? A plant, insect, a picture maybe. Then suddenly you couldn't go back so you were stuck. You were still a slave to your… programming, but you were becoming a person. So you left to figure it out."

"Figure what out?" Damon hissed.

"The meaning of your existence, and you decided it was Grayson."

Damon's eyes widened marginally before he tried to cover it with a scowl. Damian still felt… anger towards his brother, but…

"Foolish, but I can't say I was any better. I've been a worthless big brother so far, haven't I? I saw you as a replacement trying to grab a hold of what I had made for myself. I have found peace and contentment in Gotham with Father and Grayson. I feared what you could take from me, but Todd, with his idiotic plot to convince Grayson of the danger you present has reminded me of when I was you."

Damon, caught, tied up, in pain couldn't even pretend he wasn't furious.

"You were never like me!" He screamed, "You didn't have to contend with an ungrateful—"

"Three brothers and a sister. My father had his children. There was no need for me." Damian frowned slightly, "The first boy made him smile and healed some of his deepest wounds, the second tore him apart with his loss, the next pulled him out of that darkness, reminded him that Batman needs a Robin and the girl reminded him of mercy. Those are only the ones he adopted. Through Oracle he learned perseverance. Through Batgirl he learned optimism in darkness. Where was I supposed to fit in? They all had their places in his heart and I came from the enemy."

"But you had a place. You were the blood son," Damon insisted.  
"And what's blood without trust and love? Nothing."

Todd snorted, "I never knew your kid was so deep."

"Shut up," Grayson elbowed him, hard.

"But the conclusion I had reached was incorrect. I didn't learn that until after he was gone. Grayson chose me as his Robin because I needed it. I needed to be a part of something and accepted. At first I thought it might be because of my merits, because I was stronger than Tim Drake, but I was wrong…" He looked up at Grayson and understanding passed between them, "Drake was a better Robin at the time, but I swear if you ever tell him that I'll gut you."

Todd snorted.

"You shouldn't laugh Todd, Grayson was doing the same thing Father had done to you. I might not have been the best Robin for the job at the time, but I—"

"You were in better hands." Todd finished, completely serious. His arms crossed. "So you got over your anger like I was never able to back then. Yeah kid, I get that. Bruce was angry, how could he be expected to fix my anger when he had his own? We just fed each other, the world became darker and in the end I didn't trust him enough to help me."

Damian looked from Todd to Damon and grunted in approval. Then he explained,"The heart is infinite. I didn't need to squeeze in, there was already room."

"Mother's people are coming."

"What?" Grayson asked. He tensed quickly scanning the area.

"Shit," Jason cursed. He peeled off his mask and handed it to Grayson, then retrieved his helmet.

Damon looked past Damian at Grayson. "She was going to see how I killed him and Todd and captured you."

"And I thought we had something," Todd said sarcastically.

"And now what?" Grayson asked. Their eyes met. Damian felt tension watching the two of them. His brother was still hungry, still wanting, but…

"…I still plan to have you, but you're no good to me dead, so I can… put it aside for now."

Todd grunted in disbelief, "That's the most reassuring thing I've heard all day."

He stared at Damon and felt Grayson's eyes on him. He turned. That easy reassuring smile filled with love and pride.

"Your call," Grayson decided.

Damian pulled out a bird-a-rang, "Pull anything and I swear I'll cripple you." He cut the ropes.

"-Tt- you can try."

* * *

They were already in the warehouse of course. Anyone with the kind of training the four of them had would know instinctively as soon as the shadows entered the building. They formed a circle in the middle, waiting.

"You're not still mad at me right?" Jason asked casually.

"Of course I'm still 'mad' at you," Richard replied firmly.

"Aw, come on, don't be like that, Bluebird."

Their first attacker came out of nowhere going for his brother's head. Richard swung his body sending his retrieved eskima stick into the assassin's gut.

"Don't you 'Bluebird' me," He seethed as the assassin fell and three more appeared. They spoke in a rhythm, like they weren't about to be swarmed by the best of the best. "You kidnapped me, creeped me out in general and manipulated a little kid who didn't know better."

Damon punched one of the attacking Ninjas in the face swirling to the side before they could retaliate.

"I resent that," He said blandly.

"You gotta give the kid some props, it was his plan," The Red Hood shot at two ninjas in quick succession. Non-lethal, but debilitating. He was playing by Richard's rules it seemed.

"-Tt- of course it was," His brother grumbled kicking into one of their attacker's knees savagely.

Twenty shadows so far and probably more to come if he knew his mother. She would want him retrieved and the others killed. He had run without her permission after all.

"Don't play the 'I'm just the angsty tool in a devious plot card' with me. You saw weaknesses and exploited it and for what? A really crappy plan? What were you going to do if Damian hadn't beat you anyway?"

Jason suddenly blocked a ninja that had come up behind Richard's back and shot them twice, point blank in the shoulder and leg. He then stepped on the leg wound for good measure.

"Hey! One, you were the one that 'beat me' and two, I let you win. I knew one of your tag-along-kids was bound to show up eventually. All I had to do was stall."

Richard was suddenly beside Damon and helped him dispatch one of the bigger attackers.

"I didn't need help," He took the next one out viciously and quickly. He held himself back from killing. With his shoulder wound he would have trouble taking on the shadows and his brothers—

His brother.

"You're welcome," Grayson chirped cheerfully. He did a graceful backwards flip getting behind another ninja and knocking them hard in the head.

"So your brilliant plan was to show al Ghul a monster and convince Grayson to give up on him, let us win at the last moment and what? Throw al Ghul down a garbage shoot never to be seen again?"

"More of Nightwing convinces Daddy the kid ain't good and he locks him away never to be seen again until the next prison breakout—or gets off his high horse and gets Zatanna to zap him."

"Yeah, right. More like you wanted Batman to show up so you could grandstand about you and Damon's similarities. The sons he can't save." Damian mused.

"Shut up, brat!"

"And what do you think now?" Richard asked. He was suddenly pressed up against Red Hood's chest. There was no space between their bodies. Nightwing he sent a crushing blow over his shoulder into the face of another assassin who no doubt had lost teeth. Jason fired off a round with his right hand while his left slid down the small of Richard's back and rested on his ass squeezing slightly. Of all the—

"Kid might not be so bad after all," Jason admitted. In a moment they had untangled themselves and were back to the fight.

"Can't you people defend yourselves quietly?" He seethed in annoyance.

His brother ticked in agreement.

"Our quick wit is part of our charm, kid. Stop messing with it," Jason quipped reloading. While he did so Damian blocked oncoming attackers.

They weren't a team, well, Richard and his brother were, but Todd wasn't. Yet they knew where to go, where to block and where to give the others space. Perhaps it was after working so long with Bruce Wayne. Damon felt out of sorts. Every now and then they would move and defend him, they were aware of where his body was at all times. They were including him in their cog, but he wasn't—

He didn't fit right.

So of course he was the weakest link.

He had been distracted. By the dynamic, by Jason and Richard's chattiness and playfulness and their obvious flirting even in the middle of violence. By the teamwork. By one of the ninjas whispering in his ear that he was a betrayer and they were there to wipe him out.  
He was distracted by his brother swooping in and preventing one of the shadows from catching him with their poison blade.

His brother, who hated him, who should have been like him, who should have let him die given the opportunity had saved him. Had actively defended him.

Recently Damon had realized he didn't want to die. Jason pushed that point home for him. He had learned he wanted the acceptance that Richard offered. He had learned from his brother that hearts are infinite… and forgiving.

So when the large assassin brought down his sword directly towards Damian's back which should have been watched by Damon there was no time for a counterstrike or an efficient block. His shoulder was useless. He couldn't stop it.

And echoing in his head was Richard's smile, still aimed at his brother and the all-encompassing dread of death.

He stepped in front of the blade using his body as a shield.

_I don't want to die._

* * *

One more chapter...


End file.
